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LIFE 



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REV- JOHN MURRAY 



PREACHER 0F UNIVERSAL SALVATION. 



NOTES AND AN APPENDIX, 

BY THOMAS WHITTEMORE. 




BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED AT THE TRUMPET OFFICE. 

1833. 



Entered according to act of Congress, in the year eighteen 
hundred thirty-three, by Thomas Whittemore, in th« 
Clerk's Office of the District of Massachusetts. 



/ 



boston: 
james b. dow, print!*, 
.122 ttashington-8t. 



PREFACE 



TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION. 



The pages which compose the volume now presented to the 
public, were originally designed only for the eye of a tender 
and beloved friend. 

They were written at the earnest request of one to whom the 
author was endeared by many years of intimate friendship, 
and still more by those divine and soul-soothing tenets, of 
which it was his distinguished lot to be ordained the pro- 
mulgator. 

For those who, like this individual, have dwelt with rapture 
upon the blessed assurance of the boundless and enduring 
love of a redeeming God, as powerfully exhibited by those lips 
which rarely opened but to expatiate upon the glad tidings 
which was the theme of the angelic song : for those who loved 
the philanthropic, the inspired preacher, for the sake of the 
glorious inspiration ; these sheets will possess the strongest 
and most important interest ; to such, and to such only, they 
are addressed. It is in compliance with their solicitations 
that they are sent into the world ; and it is not even expected 
that those who turned a deaf ear to his consolatory message, 
and who knew not the powers of his mighty mind, or the pure 
and exalted benevolence of his heart, will have any interest 
in inquiring, ' What manner of man was he who told these 
things, nor what spirit he was of? ' 

Boston, May 2, 1816. 



PREFACE 

TO THIS EDITION. 



There are several considerations which have influenced me 
in publishing a new edition of this popular work. In the first 
place, I flatter myself that the various emendations which I 
have made will enhance the value of the work to the public. 
In some cases I have supplied dates where they were wanting ; 
in some I have given the full name for the initials, and made 
other alterations of a like character. But the text, with a few 
verbal exceptions, is preserved as it was in the original edi- 
tion. I freely confess my regret that my means of amending 
the work in these particulars were not more abundant; for it 
is a general fault, running through all the works of Mr. Mur- 
ray, that names and dates are sadly wanting. 

I have endeavored also to enhance the value of the work by 
the addition of a large body of notes. I had many facts in my 
possession belonging clearly to the biography of Mr. Murray, 
that had not been incorporated into his 1 Letters,' &c. nor in- 
to any edition of his 1 Life.' Such as I could introduce with- 
out swelling the work to too large a size, I have given. 

Again — I have made some additions from Mr. Murray's 
* Letters and Sketches.' The latter work was published be- 
fore the author's death, and some interesting parts of his biog- 
raphy were included, which his widow did not incorporate 
into the account of his life. His visit to Potter's grave, and 
to the meeting-house which his departed friend had bequeath- 
ed him, — his refusing to receive the meeting-house as his own, 
and giving it up to the people for their use, are circumstances 
that ought to descend to posterity with his biography. 

The want of an Index is a material defect in any work. I 
have, therefore, with some labor, prepared one for this edi- 
tion, the first that has appeared with an index. But my prin- 
cipal effort has been bestowed upon the Appendix. I have 



?i PREFACE. 

here given certain documents never before published ; to all 
which is added the large note on the relative sentiments and 
feelings of Murray and Winchester. These great men were 
contemporaries, and it has been an interesting employment to 
seek out the intercourse they had with each other, to pene- 
trate their feelings one towards the other, and to bring their 
religious opinions into contrast. This work was perform- 
ed, not with invidious feeling, but because it never had been 
so fully done before, and for the object that their relative sen- 
timents may be better understood. The views of Mr. Murray 
in regard to the nature of sin, the character of punishment, 
the condition of departed unbelievers, and the transactions of 
the day of judgment, are shown. These have been gathered 
from a very careful examination of his ' Letters and Sketches/ 

It should not be omitted that another object in publishing 
this edition is to reduce the price of the work. The first edi- 
tion in 8vo. we believe, sold for $1 50 cents. The second, 
in 12mo. at $1 25 cents. Subsequent editions at 75 cents, 
— this, notwithstanding it is much enlarged, at 50 cents. It 
will now be within the means of all classes, and from its high- 
ly interesting character, will be more generally read. 

In perusing the following pages, the reader should bear 
continually in recollection, that Mr. Murray was a man of 
warm and ardent mind, a rich and glowing fancy, and of a 
heart of stern integrity. These circumstances will serve to 
account for whatever there is in this work of a marvellous 
character. It cannot be more truly said of any man than of 
him, that he saw the hand of God in all the events of his life; 
and whatever occurred in his course of a wonderful nature, 
his firm belief in the divine supervision of human affairs, led 
him to regard at once as a particular providence. 

The seventh, eighth, and ninth chapters of the work were 
written by Mr. Murray's widow, a woman of unquestioned 
talent. Her disposition in regard to the things of this world 
was altogether different from his ; nor was she able to sup- 
press a lamentation which appears in the seventh chapter, that 
he did not avail himself of the opportunities offered him, to ac- 
cumulate wealth. She removed several years since, with an 
only daughter and a grand child, to one of the south-western 
states. They are now all deceased ; and not a descendant 
of Mr. Murray is on the earth. 

Thomas Whittemore, 

Boston, April 20, 1833, 



CONTENTS- 



CHAPTER I. 

PACBt 



An account of the authors birth and parentage, with succeed- 
ing events until the decease of his father 9 

CHAPTER II. 

RecGrd continued until the authors departure from Ireland 41 

CHAPTER III. 
Arrival in England, and further progress of the inexperienced 
traveller 58 

CHAPTER IV. 
The author becomes a happy husband, a happy father. He 
embraces the ' truth, as it is in Jesus,' and from this, and 
other combining causes, he is involved in great difficulties. 
Death deprives him of his infant son, and wedded friend, 
and lie is overtaken by a series of calamities 82 



CHAPTER V. 
The bereaved man, quitting his native shores, embarks for 
America, indulging the fond hope of sequestering himself in 
the solitude for which he sighed. But, contrary to his ex- 
pectations, a series of circumstances unite to make him a 



p romulgator of the gospel of God our Saviour , ..107 

CHAPTER VI. 

Record continued from Sept. 1770, to the winter of 1774 123 

CHAPTER VII. 
Summary record of events from January, 1775, to October, 
]809 181 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Record continued from October, 1609, to September, 1815, in- 
cluding the closing scene 218 

CHAPTER IX. 
Conclusion 223 

Appendix , 239 



REV. 



LIFE 

O F 

JOHN MURRAY. 



CHAPTER I. 

Containing an Account of the Author's Birth and Parentage, un- 
til the Decease of his Father. 

How sweetly roll'd over the morning of life, 
How free from vexation, from sorrow and strife j 
Kind nature presented rich scenes to my view, 
And every scene she presented was new. 

But soon was the morning of life clouded o'er, 
And its charming serenity lost ; 

Too soon was I forc'd to abandon the shore, 
And on ocean's rude billows be tost. 

Your earnest solicitations, my inestimable, my best friend, have, 
with me, the force of commands, and consequently I am irresisti- 
bly compelled to retrace, for your gratification, as many of the in- 
cidents of early life, as live in my memory. Assured of your in- 
dulgence, I unhesitatingly commit to your candor, and to your 
discretion, the following sheets, 

I am induced to regret, that my anecdotes of this charming sea- 
son are not more multiplied. Were my recollection perfect, my 
enjoyments would be reiterated, but this would not be right, there- 
fore it is not so ; every season has its enjoyments, and the God of 
Nature has thought proper to keep them distinct and appropriate. 

I think, if I mistake not, I was ushered into this state of being on 
the 10th day of December, in the year of our Lord, 1741, four years 
before the rebellion in Scotland, of forty-five. I mention this cir- 
cumstance, as it proved to me, in early life, a source of some vexa- 
tion. The rebellion terminated in the destruction of many of the 
2 



10 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



Scotch nobility of my name ; and this same rebellion was long the 
subject of political controversy, which generally terminated in the 
execration of the Scots, and, on account of my name, I was looked 
upon as a party concerned. 

I drew my first breath in the island of Great Britain, in the town 
of Alton, in Hampshire. This town boasts a Church, a Presbyte- 
rian and a Quaker meeting-house ; a celebrated free school, an ex- 
tensive and very useful manufacture, and it is environed by a plan- 
tation of hops. Alton is seated on the River Wey, 18 miles east- 
north-east of South-Hampton, and 48 miles west-south-west of 
London. 

Being the first born of my parents, it is not wonderful that my 
appearance gave much joy, nor that the little complaints, incident 
to infancy, gave great apprehension. It was in consequence of 
some little indisposition, that they solicited and obtained for me 
private baptism. My parents were both sincerely religious, though 
members of different sects. My father was an Episcopalian, my 
mother a Presbyterian ; yet religion never disturbed the harmony 
of the family. My mother believed, as most good women then be- 
lieved, that husbands ought to have the direction, especially in con- 
cerns of such vast importance, as to involve the future well-being 
of their children ; and of course it was agreed, that I should receive 
from the hands of an Episcopalian minister the rite of private bap- 
tism ; and as this ordinance, in this private manner, is not admin- 
istered, except the infant is supposed in danger of going out of the 
world in an unregenerate state, before it can be brought to the 
church, I take for granted I was, by my apprehensive parents, be- 
lieved in imminent danger; yet, through succeeding years, I seem- 
ed almost exempt from the casualties of childhood. I am told that 
my parents, and grand parents, had much joy in me ; that I never 
broke their rest nor disturbed their repose not even in weaning; 
that I was a healthy, good-humored child, of a ruddy complexion, 
and that the equality of my disposition became proverbial. I 
found the use of my feet before I had completed my first year, but 
the gift of utterance was still postponed. I was hardly two years 
old, when I had a sister born ; this sister was presented at the bap- 
tismal font, and, according to the custom in our Church, I was 
curried to be received, that is, all who are jirivately baptized, must, 
if they live, be publicly received in the congregation. The priest 
took me in his arms, and, having prayed, according to the form 
made use of on such occasions, I articulated with an audible voice. 
Amen. The congregation were astonished, and I have frequently 
heard my parents say, this was the first word I ever uttered, and 
that a long time elapsed, before I could distinctly articulate any 
other. Indulged, as I said, by bounteous nature, with much seren- 
ity of mind, every one Was happy with me. I was fond of being 
abroad, and a servant was generally employed to gratify me. Dur- 
ing these repeated rambles, I experienced some 'hair-breadth 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



11 



'scapes,' which, while they excited the wonder of my good parents, 
they i'ailed not to record. From these frequent promenades, I de- 
rived that vigorous constitution, or at least its stability, which has 
prolonged my abode in this vale of tears, through many serious 
disorders, which have seemed to promise my emancipation. I do 
not remember the time when I did not behold the works of Nature 
with delight ; such as the drapery of the heavens, and the flowers 
of the garden, and of the fields ; and I perfectly recollect, before I 
was clothed in masculine habiliments, that I was delightedly occu- 
pied in opening the ground, throwing it into some form, and plant- 
ing, in regular order, little sprigs broken from the gooseberry, or 
-currant bushes. My pleasures of this nature were, however, soon 
interrupted by going to school : this was my first affliction ; yet, to 
imperious necessity, the sweet pliability of human nature soon con- 
formed my mind: nay, it was more than conformed; I derived 
even felicity, from the approbation of my school dame, from the 
pictures in my books, and especially from the acquaintance I form- 
ed with my school-mates. 

It does not appear to me that I was what the world calls natur- 
ally vicious. I was neither querulous, nor quarrelsome ; I cannot 
trace in my mind a vestige of envy. I rejoiced in every advantage 
possessed by my little comrades, and my father was accustomed to 
exclaim, 'Never, I believe, was such a boy ; he absolutely delights 
as much in the new garments worn by the children of our neigh- 
bors, as in his own :' and indeed, as far as I can recollect during 
this sweet morning of life, my most complete satisfaction resulted 
from the gratification of others. I never enjoyed any thing alone ; 
my earliest pleasures were social, and I was eager to reciprocate 
every good office. It is true I encountered difficulties, from the 
various dispositions of these with whom I associated, but, in my 
infant bosom, -rancor or implacability found no place. Being how- 
ever too fond of play, and ambitious of imitating my seniors, I had 
little time for reading ; yet I learned, and at six years old could 
•read aohapter in the Bible, not indeed very correctly, but I rarely 
paused at a word ; however difficult, still I read on. My father, I 
remember, used sometimes to laugh out — a levity which, by the 
way, he seldom indulged — but he did sometimes laugh out, and 
say, 'This boy sticks at nothing ; he has a most astonishing inven- 
tion: how it is he utters such sounds, and passes on with such ra- 
pidity, I cannot conceive :' but my blunders were more frequently 
marked by a staggering box on the ear, whkh necessitated me to 
stop, when I was obliged to recommence, and go over the whole 
again. This conduct originated, even at this early age, more fear 
than affection for my father. I was studious *to avoid his presence, 
and I richly enjoyed his absence. To my brothers and sisters, 
who were multiplied with uncommon rapidity, I was warmly at- 
tached ; and as our mother contributed all in her power to our 
gratification, our pleasures were not surpassed by those of any little 
group which came under our observation. 



12 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



My parents were the religious children of religious parents, and 
grand parents : they were the more religious on that account ; and, a9 
the descendants of ancient nohle families value themselves on their 
pedigree, stimulating their children from considerations of ancestry 
to act up to the illustrious examples which they exhibit and emblaz- 
on, uniformly insisting that they shall avoid mixing with the ple- 
beian race ; so, as soon as I appeared to pay attention to interesting 
tales, I was made acquainted with the characters of my grand pa- 
rents. 

My paternal grandfather, however, possessed only negative reli- 
gion ; that is, his affection for my grandmother obliged him to con- 
form to her, in every thing ; and he esteemed himself happy, in be- 
ing blest with a wife, who, from principle and inclination, was both 
able and willing to take upon herself the care and culture of her 
children. How long this grandfather lived, I am unable to say; 
but my grandmother was, with respect to her religious attachments, 
more fortunate in a second marriage. She was united to a Mr. 
Beattie, a man of considerable note, in every point of view. It was 
by this gentleman's name, 1 became acquainted with my grand- 
mother: I remember, when very young, to have seen his picture, 
which gave me a very high idea of his person. It was his son, who 
was governor of the fortress, in the harbor of Cork. My grand- 
mother soon lost this, second husband, and never married again. 
She was, in the morning and meridian of her life, a celebrated 
beauty : the remains of a fine face were visible when I knew her: 
I never beheld a more beautiful old lady. Traces of affluence 
were conspicuous in her dwelling, her furniture, and apparel ; she 
was an immedate descendant of an ancient and honorable family in 
France ; her father's name was Barroux, one of the noblesse, and a 
dweller in the town of Paimboeuf^ on the river Loire, between the 
city of Nantes, and the mouth of said river. Mr. Barroux having 
buried his lady, who left him two daughters, thought proper, as was 
then the custom of people of distinctiou, to educate his eldest daugh- 
ter in England ; this step banished her from her native country, and 
from her father : she never saw either more. Attaching herself to 
a family of Episcopalians, she became a zealous Protestant, which, 
together with her selecting a husband of the same persuasion, con- 
firmed her an exile forever. The irritated feeling of her father ad- 
mitted no appeal : his affections were totally alienated: he was a 
high-spirited, obstinate man, and he swore in his wrath, he would 
wed the first woman he met, provided he could obtain her consent, 
and she was not absolutely disgusting. The first who presented 
happened to be his chambermaid :he made known to her his vow, 
was accepted with gratitude, and they were speedily married. Not 
many years after this event, the old gentleman died, leaving no is- 
sue by his second marriage : and, as he left no will, his daughter, 
who continued under the paternal roof, entered into possession of 
the whole estate ; she, however, survived her father only three 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



13 



weeks, when my grandmother' became the only legal heir to the 
property, both of her father and her sister. 

A large share of the personal estate was conveyed to England, 
by two priests; and rite real estate was tendered to my grandmoth- 
er, on condition that she would read her recantation, renounce the 
damnable doctrines of the Church of England, and receive the Most, 
as the real presence. My grandmother, and my father, after a con- 
ference, which continued but a few moments, cheerfully concurred 
in a relinquishment of the estate, and united in declaring, that, on 
terms so calculated to prostrate their integrity, they would not ac- 
cept the whole kingdom of France. The clergyman returned to 
the Gallic shore, and the person left in the house, for the purpose 
of taking charge of the estate, until the heirs at law should recover 
their senses, continued in the quiet possession of an inheritance, 
worth five hundred pounds sterling per annum. When the estate 
was thus, upon religious principles, surrendered, I was about five 
years of age ; but having frequently heard my father circumstantial- 
ly relate the transaction, as I advanced in life, my bosom often ac- 
knowledged a latent wish, that he had accepted an inheritance to 
which his natural claim was indubitable, upon the terms offered by 
the ecclesiastics, which were, that my grandmother and my fa- 
ther should, in so many words, qualify themselves for the possession 
of their right, while, in their hearts, they continued to judge for 
themselves. But from a conduct so questionable, the guileless heart 
of my upright parent spontaneously revolted ; and, for myself, 
while revolving years gave me to exult in his decision, the detec- 
tion of so reprehensible a principle, in my own bosom, and at so ear- 
ly a period, originated much contrition. Yet, notwithstanding the 
very considerable sacrifice made by my father, his uniform efforts 
commanded all the necessaries, and many of the elegancies of life. 
His children multiplied ; four sons and five daughters augmented 
his felicities ; he received from nature a strong mind, his parents 
bestowed upon him a good education, and he was universally re- 
spected and beloved. 

The parents of my mother were well known to me ; her father's 
name was James Rolt, his ancestors were all English ; he was in 
early life a bon-vivant, and even when he became the head of a 
family, his reprehensible pursuits were nothing diminished; the si- 
lent suffering of his wedded companion were strongly expressed in 
her wan countenance and broken health. The circumstances of 
his conversion from dissipation to a life of severe piety were rather 
remarkable, and were considered in his day as miraculous. 

Of the piety of my paternal grandfather, or my maternal grand- 
mother, I have little to say. I have never heard that they allowed 
themselves in any improper indulgences, and as they were the ad- 
mirers of their devout companions, it is a fair conclusion, that they 
were at least negatively pious, and that if they did not lead, they 
-cheerfully followed, in cultivating a pious disposition in the minds 



14 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



of their children ; and, by consequence, Religion became the legiti- 
mate inheritance of my immediate parents. The conversion of my 
paternal grandmother, from the tenets in which she was educated, 
increased her zeal, while the inheritance, sacrificed from conscien- 
tious principles, gave her to consider herself more especially heir of 
an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away ; 
and conscious that she had fully concurred with my father, in de- 
priving their children of a temporal treasure, they were sedulously, 
anxious to inculcate a persuasion of the necessity of securing an- 
other. 

It is wonderful, that while it was the great business, both of my 
father and mother, to render their children feelingly solicitous to 
secure an interest in the Redeemer, that they might be ihus entitled 
to a blessed and happy futurity, they were both of them very rigid 
Calvinists. 

The doctrines, taught by that gloomy Reformer, they undeviat- 
ingly taught to their family ; and hence my soul frequently expe- 
rienced the extreme of agony. Naturally vivacious, to implant re- 
ligion among my juvenile pleasures required the most vigorous and 
uniform effort. Religion was not a native of the soil, it was an ex- 
otic, which, when planted, could only be kept alive by the most 
persevering attention. Hence Religion became a subject of terror. 
I was not ten years old when I began to suffer ; the discovery of 
my sufferings gave my fond father much pleasure; he cherished 
hope of me when he found me suffering from my fears, and much 
indeed was I tortured by the severe unbending discipline of my 
father, and the terrifying apprehensions of what I had to expect 
from the God who created me. The second son of my parents 
was naturally of a pensive, gloomy disposition. He was more pious- 
ly disposed, and less fond of amusement than myself; and hearing 
much of Cain as the eldest son of Adam, of Esau as the eldest son 
of Isaac, and of Abel and Jacob as the younger sons, my soul was 
frequently filled with terror, verily believing my brother was the 
elected, and myself the rejected of God. This appalling considera- 
tion, even at this early period, frequently devoted my days and 
nights to tears and lamentation. But stability dwelt not with me, 
and the pleasing expectations of my father were often blasted ; my 
attachment to my playmates, and their childish gambols, revived, 
and when engaged in appropriate amusements, I often forgot the 
immediate terror of the rod, and of future misery ; both of which, as 
often as I reflected, I painfully believed I should endure. My fa- 
ther took every method to confine me within his walls: it was with 
difficulty he prevailed upon himself to permit my attendance at 
school, yet this was necessary, and to school J must go ; while that 
rigid and extreme vigilance, which was ever upon the alert, pro- 
duced effects diametrically opposite to the end proposed. My ap- 
petite for pleasure increased, and I occasionally preferred the truant 
frolic, to the stated seasons of study, yea, though I was certain se- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



15 



vere castigation would be the consequence. Pious supplications 
were the accompaniments of the chastisements which were inflict- 
ed, so that I often passed from the terror of the rod, to the terrify- 
ing apprehensions of future and never-ending misery. Upon these 
terrific occasions, the ?nost solemn resolutions were formed, and 
my vows were marked by floods of tears. I would no more of- 
fend either my father, or his God ; I dared not to say my God, for 
I had heard my father declare, that for any individual, not the elect 
of God, to say of God, or to God, ' Our Father,' was nothing bet- 
ter than blasphemy : when most devout, I was prevented from de- 
riving consolation from my pious breathings, by a persuasion that 
I was a reprobate, predestined to eternal perdition. In fact, I be- 
lieved that I had nothing to hope, but every thing to fear, both 
from my Creator, and my father; and these soul-appalling consid- 
erations, by enforcing a conclusion, that I was but making provi- 
sion for alternate torture, threw a cloud over every innocent enjoy- 
ment. 

About the time that I attained my eleventh year, (1751) my 
father removed to Ireland, and though 1 dreaded going with him 
any where, I was the only individual of the family whom he com- 
pelled to accompany him. Yet I was captivated by the charms of 
•novelty. London filled me with amazement, and my fond, my 
apprehensive father was in continual dread of losing me; while 
the severity he practised to detain me near him, by invigorating 
my desires to escape from his presence, increased the evil. 

We quitted London in the middle of April, and, reaching Bristol, 
tarried but a little while in that city. At Pill, five miles from Bris- 
tol, between my father and myself, a final separation was on the 
point of taking place. In the Bristol river the tide is extremely 
rapid : I stepped into a boat on the slip, and letting it loose, the 
force of the current almost instantly carried it off into the channel, 
and had it been ebb instead of flood tide, I must inevitably have 
gone out to sea, and most probably should never have been heard 
of more: but the flood tide carried me with great rapidity up the 
river, and the only fear I experienced was from the effects of my 
father's indignation. The poor gentleman, with a number of com- 
passionate individuals, were engaged, until almost twelve o'clock, 
in searching the town, and the harbor, and had returned home 
relinquishing every hope of my restoration. In the midst of the 
stream I found a large flat-bottomed boat at anchor, to which, 
making fast the boat I was in, I consequently proceeded no farther. 
At midnight, I heard voices on the side of the river, when, earnest- 
ly imploring their aid, and offering a liberal reward, they came in 
their boat, and, conveying me on shore, conducted me to my lodg- 
ings; but no language can describe my dismay, as I drew near my 
father, who was immediately preparing to administer the deserved 
chastisement, when the benevolent hostess interposed, and in pity- 
moving accents exclaimed: 'Oh, for God's sake let the poor Blood 



16 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



alone ; I warrant he has suffered enough already.' My father Was 
softened, perhaps he was not displeased to find a pretence for mild- 
ness : he gave me no correction for this offence ; he even treated 
me with unusual kindness. We were detained in Pil! three weeks, 
wishing for a favorable wind ; three weeks more at Minehead, and 
three weeks at Milford Haven. Thus we were nine weeks in per- 
forming a passsage, which is commonly made in forty-eight hours, 
and instead of my father's reaching Cork before the residue of his 
family, they were there almost at the moment of our arrival. In 
Cork we were at home. There dwelt the respected mother of my 
father, and in easy circumstances ; many changes, howeve?', had 
taken place in her family, although the remains of affluence were 
still visible. My father fixed his residence in the vicinity of this 
city, and a most pleasing residence it proved. 

About this time the Methodists made their appearance, and my 
father was among the first who espoused their cause. His zeal for 
vital religion could hardly be surpassed ; and it appeared to him 
that this innate, and holy operation, rejected by every other sect, 
had found refuge in the bosoms of these exemplary people. But, 
though my father espoused the cause, he did not immediately become 
a Methodist: the Methodists were not Calvinists. Yet, if possible, 
he doubled his diligence ; he kept his family more strict than ever; 
he was distinguished by the name of saint, and became the only 
person in his vicinity, whom the Methodists acknowledged as truly 
pious. With the religion of the Methodists I was greatly enamor- 
ed ; they preached often, and in the streets ; they had private socie- 
ties of young people, and sweet singing, and a vast deal of it, and 
an amazing variety of tunes, — and all this' was beyond expression 
charming. At this period the health of my father began to decline. 
Physicians concurred in opinion, that his complaints indicated a 
pulmonary affection. Again his efforts were renewed and invigor- 
ated, and, poor gentleman, his labors were abundautly multiplied. 
The ardent desire of his soul was to render every individual of his 
family actively religious, and religious in his own way; but as his 
children necessarily mingled more or less with the children in the 
neighborhood, they caught words and habits which he disliked, 
and application was made to the rod, as a sovereign panacea. 

In the course of my twelfth year, my father was overtaken by a 
very heavy calamity ; his house, and indeed almost every thing he 
possessed, were laid in ashes. He had only a moment to snatch to 
his bosom a sleeping infant from its cradle, when a part of the 
house fell in ; an instant longer and they would both have been 
wrapped in the surrounding flames ; and a deep sense cf this pre- 
serving mercy accompanied him to his grave. Thus every event 
of his life seemed to combine to render his devotions more and 
more fervent. It was happy for us that my respectable grand- 
mother still lived, whose extricating hand was an ever ready re- 
source. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



17 



It was my father's constant practice, so long as his health would 
permit, to quit his bed, winter as well as summer, at four o'clock 
in the morning ; a large portion of this time, thus redeemed from 
sleep, was devoted to private prayers and meditations. At six 
o'clock the family were summoned, and I, as the eldest son, was 
ordered into my closet, for the purpose of private devotion. My 
father, however, did not go with me, and I did not always pray ; I 
was not always in a praying frame ; but the deceit, which I was 
thus reduced to the necessity of practising, was an additional tor- 
ture to my laboring mind. After the family were collected, it was 
my part to read a chapter in the bible ; then followed a long and 
fervent prayer by my father; breakfast succeeded, when the chil- 
dren being sent to school, the business of the day commenced. In 
the course of the day, my father, as I believed, never omitted his 
private devotions, and, in the evening, the whole family were again 
collected, the children examined, our faults recorded, and I, as an 
example to the rest, especially chastised. My father rarely passed 
by an offence, without marking it by such punishment as his sense 
of duty awarded ; and when my tearful mother interceded for me, 
he would respond to her entreaties in the language of Solomon, 
' if thou beat him with a rod, he shall not die ; ' the bible was again 
introduced, and the day was closed by prayer. Sunday was a day 
much to be dreaded in our family ; we were all awakened at early 
dawn, private devotions attended, breakfast hastily dismissed, shut- 
ters closed, no light but from the back part of the house, no noise 
could bring any part of the family to the window, not a syllables 
was uttered upon secular affairs ; every one who could read, chil- 
dren and domestics, had their allotted chapters. Family prayer 
succeeded: after which, Baxter's Saint's Everlasting Rest was 
assigned to me ; my mother all the time in terror lest the children 
should be an interruption. At last the bell summoned us to church, 
whither in solemn order we proceeded ; 1 close to my father, who 
admonished me to look straight forward, and not let my eyes 
wander after vanity. At church, I was fixed at his elbow, compel- 
led to kneel when he kneeled, to stand when he stood, to find the 
Psalm, Epistle, Gospel, and collects for the day ; and any instance 
of inattention was vigilantly marked, and unrelentingly punished. 
When I returned from church, I was ordered to my closet ; and 
when I came forth, the chapter from which the preacher had 
taken his text, was read, and I was then questioned respecting the 
sermon, a part of which I could generally repeat. Dinner, as 
breakfast, was taken in silent haste, after which we were not suffer- 
ed to walk, even in the garden, but every one must either read, 
or hear reading, until the bell gave the signal for afternoon service, 
from which we returned to private devotion, to reading, to cate- 
chising, to examination, and long family prayer, which closed the 
most laborious day of the week, it was the custom for many of 
our visiting friends to unite with us in these evening exercises, to 



IS 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



the no small gratification of my father : it is true, especially after 
he became an invalid, be was often extremely fatigued, but, upon 
these occasions, the more he suffered the more he rejoiced, since 
his reward would be the greater, and indeed his sufferings, of every 
description, were to him a never-failing source of consolation. In 
fact, this devotional life became to him second nature, but it was 
not so to his family. For myself, I was alternately serious, and 
wild, but never yet very moderate in any thing. My father re- 
joiced in my devotional f rames, and was encouraged to proceed, as 
occasion was given, in the good work of whipping, admonishing, 
and praying. continued to repeat my pious resolutions, and, still 
more to bind my soul, I once vowed a vow unto the Lord, — kissing 
the book for the purpose of adding to its solemnity, — that I would 
no more visit the pleasure grounds, nor again associate with those 
boys, who had been ray companions. Almost immediately after 
this transaction I attended a thundering preacher, who taking for 
his text that command of our Saviour, which directs his disciples 
to < swear not at all,'' gave me to believe I had committed a most 
heinous transgression, in the oath that 1 had taken ; nay, he went 
so far as to assure his hearers, that to say, ' upon my word,'' was an 
oath, a very horrid oath, since it was tantamount to swearing by- 
Jesus Christ, inasmuch as he was the word, who was made flesh 
for us, and dwelt among us. This sermon rendered me for a long 
season truly wretched, while I had no individual to whom I could 
confide my distresses. To my father 1 dared not even- name my 
secret afflictions ; and my mother, as far as the tenderness of her 
nature would pern:it, was in strict unison with her venerated hus- 
band. The depression of my spirits upon this occasion was great r 
and enduring; but for revolving months I continued what they 
called a good boy, 1 was attentive to my book, carefully following 
the directions that were given me, and on rny return from school, 
instead of squandering the hours of intermission with idle associ- 
ates, 1 immediately retired to the garden, which constituted one of 
the first pleasures of my life: in fact, the cultivation of fruits, andi 
flowers, has, in every period of my existence, continued to me & 
prime source of enjoyment. My paternal grandmother was the 
Lady Bountiful of the parish ; having made it her study, she 
became an adept in the dist nation of simples; she had a large 
garden adjoining to my fathei's, and she cultivated an amazing 
variety of plants. As I was her favorite assistant, she gradually 
obtained my father's permission, that 1 should appropriate to her a 
large part oj my time ; and the hours which I consequently devoted 
to this venerable lady, in her garden, and in her habitation, were to 
me halcyon hours. It was my study to enrich her grounds with 
every choice herb, or flower, which met my gaze, and I was ever 
on the alert to collect plants of the most rare description, ^his 
was confessedly an innocent amusement; it would bear reflection, 
and was therefore delightful. Alas! alas! it was too replete with 



LIFE* OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



19 



felicity to be continued. I was soon compelled to relinquish my 
pleasant occupation. My father found it necessary to remove 
from the neighborhood of his mother, and her garden no more 
bloomed for rne. 

We were speedily established in the vicinity of a nobleman's 
seat, in which was instituted an academy of high reputation. It 
was under the direction of an Episcopalian clergyman, who, being 
well acquainted with, and much attached to my father, had fre- 
quent opportunities of hearing me recite many chapters from the 
bible, which I had committed to memory, and becoming fond of 
me, he earnestly importuned my father to surrender me up to his 
care. ' He shall live in my family,' said he ; ' he shall be unto me 
as a son ; I will instruct him, and when opportunity offers, he shall 
become a member of the University ; he has a prodigious memory, 
his understanding needs only to be opened, when he will make the 
most rapid progress.' But my father, trembling for my spiritual in- 
terest, if removed from his guardian care, returned to this liberal 
proposal the most unqualified negative, and my writing-master im- 
mediately sought, and obtained the situation for his son, who was 
about, my age. In this academy many noblemen's sons were qual- 
ified for Trinity College, Dublin : and in a few years one of those 
ennobled students, selected my fortunate schoolmate as a compan- 
ion; he passed through Trinity College, and received its honors, 
from' which period I never again beheld him, until I saw him in a 
pulpit in the city of London. 

Though my social propensities, at every period of my life great- 
ly predominated, yet the close attention paid me by my father, 
greatly abridged every enjoyment of this description. Yet I did 
form one dear connexion, with whom I held sweet converse. 
But of the society of this dear youth I was soon deprived. Recall- 
ed by his family, he was to leave town upon a Sunday morning, 
and instead of going to church, I took my way to his lodgings, for 
the purpose of bidding him a last farewell. The ill health of my 
father prevented him from attending church on that day, but tidings 
of my delinquency were conveyed to him by a gentleman of his 
acquaintance, and my punishment, as I then believed, was more 
than proportioned to my fault. Still, however, I had sufficient 
hardihood to run great hazards. A review of several regiments of 
soldiers was announced ; I could not obtain leave to be present, 
yet, for the purpose of witnessing a sight so novel, I was determin- 
ed to take the day to myself: I suffered much through the day 
from hunger, and I anticipated my reception at home. In the 
evening, I stopped at a little hut, where the homely supper smok- 
ed upon the frugal board : the cottagers had the goodness to press 
me to partake with them ; my heart blessed them ; I should, like 
Esau, have given my birthright, had it been mine to bestow, for 
this entertainment ; but, blessings on the hospitable inhabitants of 
this island, they make no demands either upon friend, or stranger \ 



20 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



every individual is welcome to whatever sustenance either their 
houses or their huts afford. I sat down, and I ate the sweetest 
meal I ever ate in my life, the pleasure of which I have never yet 
forgotten, although the paternal chastisement, which followed, was 
uncommonly severe. 

The time now approached when it was judged necessary I 
should engage in some business, by which I might secure the 
necessaries of life. The conscience of my father had deprived me 
of an estate, and of a collegiate education, and it was incumbent 
upon him to make some provision for me. But what was to be 
done ? If he sent me abroad, I should most unquestionably con- 
tract bad babits. Well then, he would bring me up himself ; but 
this was very difficult. He had for some time thrown up business, 
and new expenses must be incurred. Finally, however, I com- 
menced my new career, and under the eye of my pains-taking 
father. I did not however like it; yet I went on well, and, divid- 
ing my attention between my occupation and my garden, I had 
little leisure. It was at this period I began once more to expe- 
rience the powerful operation of religion, and secret devotion 
became my choice. Perhaps no one of my age ever more potently 
felt the joys and sorrows of religion. The Methodists had follow- 
ed us to our new situation, and they made much noise ; they court- 
ed and obtained the attention of my falher, and he now joined 
their society. They urged him to become a preacher, but his 
great humility, and his disbelief of Arminianism were insuperable 
bars. He was nevertheless a powerful assistant to the Methodists. 
Mr. John Wesley was a great admirer of my father, and he distin- 
guished him beyond any individual in the society ; perseveringly 
urging him to become the leader of a class, and to meet the socie 
ty in the absence of their preachers : to all which my father con- 
sented. I think I have before observed, that I was devoted to the 
Methodists, and for the very reason that rendered my father appre- 
hensive of them, — they were very social. The Methodists in this, 
as in every other place, where they sojourned, by degrees estab- 
lished a permanent residence. They first preached in the streets, 
practised much self-denial, and mortification, inveighed against the 
standing religion of the country, as impious and hypocritical, de- 
claring the new birth only to be found among them. To this gen- 
eral rule, they, however, allowed my father to be an exception ; 
and his open espousal of their cause contributed greatly to building 
them up. They gained many proselytes : it became the fashion 
for multitudes to become religious ; and it is in religion as in every 
thing else, where once it is followed by a multitude, multitudes will 
follow. The very children became religious. A meeting-house 
was speedily obtained, a society was formed, and classes of every 
description regularly arranged. There was one class of boys ; it 
consisted of forty, and Mr. John Wesley appointed me their leader. 
Twice in the course of every week this class met in a private 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



21 



apartment. The business of the leader was to see that the mem- 
bers were all present ; for this purpose he was furnished with a 
list of their names, and when they were all assembled, the leader 
began by singing a hymn. I was once pronounced a good 
singer, and although I never had patience to learn music by 
note, I readily caught, every tune I heard, and my notes were 
seldom false. I repeat, that I was delighted With the music 
introduced by the Methodists. I collected their most enchanting 
tunes, and singing them frequently in my class, I obtained much 
applause. Prayer succeeded the hymn ; I was accustomed to ex- 
temporary prayer; I had usually prayed in sincerity, and my devo- 
tion upon these occasions was glowing and unfeigned. Examina- 
tion followed the prayer ; I examined every individual separately, 
respecting the work of God upon his heart, and both the questions 
and responses evinced great simplicity and pious sincerity. A 
word of general advice next ensued, a second hymn was sung, and 
the whole concluded with prayer. This was a most delightful sea- 
son, both for my parents, and myself. I became the object of gen- 
eral attention : my society was sought by the grey-headed man, and 
the child. My experience was various, and great 5 in fact, I had 
experienced more of what is denominated the work of God upon 
the heart, than many, I had almost said than any, of my seniors, my 
parents excepted. Devout persons pronounced that I was, by di- 
vine favor, destined to become a burning, and a shining light ; and 
from these flattering appearances my father drew much consola- 
tion. I was frequently addressed, in his presence, as the child of 
much watching, and earnest prayer ; this, to rny proudly-pious parent 
was not a little flattering ; it was then that I derived incalculable 
satisfaction, from these very legible marks of election : And though 
the Methodists insisted, that the doctrine of election, before repent- 
ance and faith, was a damnable doctrine ; yet they admitted, that, 
after the manifestation of extraordinary evidences, the individual, 
so favored, was unquestionably elected. Thus, by the concurrent 
testimonies of Calvinists and Arminians, I was taught to consider 
myself as distinguished, and chosen of God ; as certainly born again. 
Yet, as it was next to impossible to ascertain the moment of my 
new birth, I became seriously unhappy ; but from this unhappiness 
I was rescued, by reading accounts of holy and good men in simi- 
lar circumstances ; I now therefore lived a heaven upon earth, be- 
loved, caressed, and admired. No longer shut up under my fa- 
ther's watchful care, I was allowed to go out every morning at five 
o'clock to the house of public worship ; there I hymned the praises 
of God, and united in fervent prayer with the children of the faith- 
ful: meeting several of my young admiring friends, We exchanged 
experiences, we mingled our joys and our sorrows, and, by this 
friendly intercourse, the first was increased, and the second dimin- 
ished. In all our little meetings we were continually complaining 
to, and soothing each other, and these employments were truly de- 
lightful. The mind cannot be intently occupied on contrary matj 



22 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY, 



ters at the same time, and my mind being filled with devotion, my 
waking and my sleeping moments were invariably engaged in re- 
ligious pursuits ; it was in truth my meat, and my drink, to do what 
I believed the will of my heavenly Father. At this period, 1 should 
have been wrecked upon the sand-built foundation of self-righteous- 
ness, as many of my young friends were, had it not been for the 
unbroken vigilance of an experienced and tender father. He saw 
the danger of too great elation, and he labored to keep me humble 
m my own estimation. ' You now, my dear,' said he, ' think you 
know every thing ; but when you really attain superior information 
you will be convinced you know nothing.' This assertion appear- 
ed to me extremely paradoxical ; but I have since learned to appre- 
ciate its rationality and its truth. I know not how long I proceed- 
ed in this delightful path ; nothing, from within or without, inter- 
rupted my course, and 1 well remember, that I fancied myself on 
the verge of perfection. I saw, or imagined I saw, undeviating 
rectitude within my grasp. I was conscious of no wishes, but those 
which I considered the legitimate offspring of the religion I pro- 
fessed. I wondered what had become of my evil propensities ; they 
were however gone, and, I believed, they would no more return ; 
my days, my weeks rolled on, uniformly devoted to pursuits, which 
created for me unutterable self-complacency. On Sunday morning 
I arose with the sun, and like our first parent in a state of innocence-, 

' Straight towards heaven my wandering eyes I turned, 
.And gazed awhile the ample sky.' 

Thus, after a night of charmingly refreshing and undisturbed repose, 
with spirits innocently gay, I arose, washed my face and hands, re- 
peating a short supplication, which my father never, on those oc- 
casions, omitted : ' O, Almighty God, who hath ordained this watery 
element for the use and support of nature, by which I am at this 
time refreshed, and cleansed, O ! purify my soul, by the operation 
of thy blessed spirit, as a well of water springing up unto everlasting 
life.' I then retired to my closet, offering the orisons of my glad- 
dened heart, and habited for church. I sat down to my book, un- 
til my father made his appearance, when the family being summon- 
ed, and the morning prayer ended, we breakfasted; but it was a 
light repast, and soon dispatched. At eight o'clock, I attended the 
Methodist meeting : at half past nine, returned home, and devoted 
the time to reading, until after ten, when the bell summoned me to 
church, where the Methodists at that time attended ; at church I 
was remarked for my devotion. From the church I returned to my 
closet, after which I read the Bible, responding to the interrogations 
of my father, relative to the sermon, by repeating it nearly Yerbatim. 
Dinner over, I again retired to rny closet; from which, by my fa- 
ther's desire I made my appearance, to read for him some devotion- 
al book, until the bell again commanded my attendance upon pub- 
lic Worship : but, to my great consolation, I had not, when I return- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



23 



ed home, as on Sunday sketched in a former page, to spend the 
residue of the day in saddening glooms ; at five o'clock, the Method- 
ist meeting again opened, to which the multitude flocked ; there I 
saw, and there, with affectionate admiration, I was seen ; there 
when the terrors of law were exhibited, I was delighted by the as- 
surance of eternal security therefrom ; and there, when the children 
of the Redeemer were addressed in the soothing andplausive strains 
of consolation, my heart throbbed with pleasure, and tears of trans- 
port copiously evinced the rapture of my soul. Society meeting 
succeeded the close of public service ; three classes of the people 
were denominated Methodists: The congregation, who, as outer- 
court worshippers, were only hearers, and seekers ; members of the 
society, who were classed ; and members of the band society, who 
were genuine believers. The two latter met every Sunday evening 
after meeting, and no individual, who was not furnished with a tick- 
et, could gain admittance. This ticket was a badge of distinction ; 
it gave the possessor entrance ; all others were shut out, and the door 
was locked. No words can describe, my sensations, when I ob- 
tained a seat inside the closed door ; when I listened, while the 
preacher in a low voice addressed the children of God. The house 
was not unfrequently filled with the dissonant sounds of terror, and 
joy issued from the discordant voices of those, who were in the val- 
Jey, or on the mount. From this society, I returned home, to unite 
in family devotion, repeat the fundamental points in nry religion, 
retire to my private devotions, and then to bed. Monday morning, 
I arose at five o'clock, and after the "same preparation as on Sun- 
day, attended meeting, returned to breakfast, occupied myself with 
the business of the day, until dinner ; and after dinner, an interval 
passed in private devotion, to secular affairs again, until evening ; 
then once more to the Methodist meeting, returned, attended fami- 
ly and private devotions, and to my chamber : often not to rest, but 
to my book, till midnight. Thus was my time spent, two evenings 
in the week excepted, which were devoted to my class, and one 
night in the week, when the society assembled, as on Sunday even- 
ing: but, alas ! the fervor of spirit, excited on those occasions, can- 
not, in the nature of things, be very durable. There were individ- 
uals in my class who proved untoward, they began to be weary in 
well-doing: this was a source of sorrow, the first I had experienced 
for a long time ; added to this, repeated complaints reached my ear, 
and not unfrequently slanderous reports — reports one against anoth- 
er ! This tortured me ; I consulted the preachers, disputes ran high, 
the interposition of parents became indispensable, and the class was 
broken ! ! This was a severe trial : I had derived high satisfaction, 
from the connexion, and from the fame which it had bestowed up- 
on me ; I however lost no reputation ; it was generally believed I 
had performed my duty, and that no boy, beside myself, would have 
kept such a set of beings together, and in such order so long. 

This was a season replete with events, which possessed for me 
no common interest. Constantly in society, I formed many attach* 



24 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ments, and I began to fear that the love of social enjoyments would, 
like Aaron's rod, swallow up my best affections. From conviction 
of error, I sought retirement: I loved reading more than any thing 
else ; but 1 sighed for variety, and as the full soul loatheth the honey 
comb, I began to sicken at the constant repetition of devotional 
books. My father read history, and some few novels, but he took 
special care to secure those books from his children. We were al- 
lowed to read no books but the bible, and volumes based upon this 
precious depository of whatsoever things are good and excellent. I 
sometimes, however, glanced my eye over my father's shoulder, 
and finding Tom Jones, or the History of a Foundling, in his hand, 
the efforts at concealment, which he evidently made, augmented 
my anxiety to read. I remember once to have found Clarissa Har- 
low upon his table. Hervey's Meditations, and Young's Night 
Thoughts, were not interdicted books, and their plaintive sadness 
obtained an easy admission into the inmost recesses of my soul. 
To Milton too I gave some hours, but I could not read blank verse, 
nor did my father wish to encourage my attempts in this way. He 
saw I had too strong passion for novelty, and he deemed it prudent 
to check me in the commencement of my career. 

Although my devotional ecstacies were diminished, yet I was 
steadily attentive to my religious exercises, and I believed myself 
daily increasing in good. It is true my life was as variable as the 
weather ; sometimes on the mount, and sometimes in the valley, 
sometimes alive to all the fervor of devotion, and sometimes, alas ! 
very lifeless : now rejoicing in hope, and anon depressed by fear. 

The preachers, visiting the adjacent villages, often requested my 
father to permit my attendance ; his consent delighted me ; I reap- 
ed, from those little excursions, abundant satisfaction, and the preach- 
ers being my elders, and much acquainted with the world, I col- 
lected from their conversation much to instruct and amuse. They 
were, however, young men ; they collected young company, and 
they were excellent singers ; this was a most pleasing circumstance. 
My affections naturally glowing, I soon formed strong attachments 
and, the craft of Mr. Wesley changing his candidates with every 
new quarter, the farewell sermons generally dissolved the whole 
congregation in tears, and my bosom was often lacerated with ma- 
ny and deep wounds. 

An order from the Bishop now arrived, calling upon the people 
to prepare for confirmation, and young persons were directed to 
wait upon their parish minister for the requisite instruction. Al- 
though the Methodists considered themselves Episcopalians, yet 
they were detested by the clergy of that church ; their zeal seemed 
a standing satire upon them ; and their indignation was proportion- 
ed to the progress made by the new sect. We, however, present- 
ed ourselves as candidates for confirmation ; though young, I was 
pretty generally known, and it soon became evident, that 1 had in- 
curred the displeasure of my minister. No question was proposed 
to me, hu,t his oblique reflections were abundant ; I determined, 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



however, to address him ; and one day when he was cautioning 
those who were honored by his attention, against those expecta- 
tions about which the wild enthusiasts of the day were fanatically 
raving, such as the extraordinary operations of the spirits, &c. &c, 
exhorting them to consider themselves in their baptism made mem- 
bers of Christ, and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven, I ventured 
to ask : Did I, sir, in my baptism, receive al) the advantages ? In a 
most ungracious manner, he replied: 'Undoubtedly.' Then, sir, 
allow me to ask, What can I want more ? Of what use is confir- 
mation ? ' What do you mean by asking these impertinent ques- 
tions ?'• I ask for information : I came hither to be instructed. 'No, 
you came here to instruct me ; you want to see your patron, John 
Wesley, in the pulpit. You have no business here.' I conceive, 
sir, I have business here ; lam one of your parish. I was warn- 
ed to attend, for the purpose of receiving instruction ; and to whom 
should I apply but to my minister? He deigned not to answer me, 
but when we again assembled, 1 observed : I remember, sir, when, 
we were last here, you told us, there was no such thing as a feeling 1 
operation of the spirit of God ; I request therefore to know, how 
we are to understand that article of our church, which pronounces 
the doctrine of election full of especial comfort to all godly persons, 
and such as feel in themselves the workings of the spirit of the 
Lord ? ' You have nothing to do with the articles ; you do not un- 
derstand them.' I should suppose, sir, that every member of a 
church had something to do with the articles of his church ; and if 
I do not understand them, suffer me to come to you for informa- 
tion. ' You are an impertinent fellow, and if you thus proceed, I 
shall order the clerk to put you out of the church.' You may or- 
der me out yourself, sir ; only tell me to go, and I will instantly de- 
part. Not another syllable was uttered to me, upon this occasion. 
But upon the following Sunday, when the young people of the 
congregation were again to be catechised, I appeared with the rest, 
and our teacher uttered a severe and pointed sarcasm. I was suffi- 
ciently abashed to cover my face with my hat — when, in a very 
angry tone he commanded me to depart from the church, he would 
suffer no laughter there. I assured this christian preacher, that I 
did not laugh, that I felt no disposition to laugh ; he insisted, that 
I did, and with great confusion I withdrew from the altar; but 
waiting for him in the^orchiv&f the' church, I humbly implored hiss 
pardon, while I informed hinfjithat he had done me much wrong ; 
that I had too sacred a veneration for the place I was in, to deport 
myself unbecomingly while under its roof ; that I had not the 
smallest inclination to mirth : that the consideration of his denying 
the operation of the spirit upon the heart had too much disturbed 
and grieved me. ' Well I do still say, there is no especial operation 
of the spirit: I have never experienced any thing of this descrip- 
tion.' How then, suffer me to ask, could you say, when you were 
ordained, that you felt yourself moved by the Holy Ghost to take 
upon you the office of a teacher ? ! You know nothing of the mat- 
3* 



36 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ter ; you are very impertinent.' Many were standing by, who 
seemed pleased with the advantage I had so apparently gained, and 
while thus remunerated for the insult I had received, I returned 
home in triumph. 

Some time after, as I was passing the street, one of my acquaint- 
ance asked me, if I knew the bishop was at that moment engaged 
in confirming the young people of our parish ? I instantly repair- 
ed to the church, and, to my great surprise, found the information 
correct ; my good priest had not intended I should be apprized of 
the business. I advanced however to the altar, and presented my- 
self to the bishop. My priest appeared exceedingly irritated, and 
made a communication to the bishop, in a tone too low to be un- 
derstood by me ; but his lordship replied aloud, ' It is of no conse- 
quence what they are, provided they understand what they are 
about.' From this reply I concluded the priest had accused me of 
Methodism. It happened, that I was the first of the circle pre- 
sented round the altar, and he began as follows : 

Bishop. What is your business here ? 

Murray. My lord, when I was baptized, my sponsors promised, 
in my name, to renounce the devil and all his works, the pomps 
and vanities of this wicked world, with all the sinful lusts of the 
flesh. They engaged also, that so soon as I should have learned 
the creed, the Lord's prayer, and the ten commandments, they 
would introduce me to this ordinance ; as, however, they have 
neglected so to do, I beg leave to present myself. 

Bishop. What idea have you of this ordinance ? 

Murray. I conceive, my lord, that the engagements entered in- 
to at my baptism, cannot be fulfilled without the aid, and operation 
of the spirit of the Lord ; and I am taught to consider this ordi- 
nance as a means of grace, through which I may obtain the aid of 
the Holy Spirit, so requisite to my well doing. 

Bishop. (With a softened voice) Have you ever been at the 
communion ? 

Murray. Yes, my lord, and although I ventured at first with 
fear and trembling, yet deriving therefrom real consolation, I have 
never since absented myself. 'You are right, said the Bishop, 
and immediately laying his hands upon my head, he prayed for 
me, with the greatest apparent fervor. Turning to a lad, who 
stood next me, he aske< ,£ 'him the s^ v (e question he had previously 
addressed tome: he was unprovided with an answer. * This is 
astonishing,' said the bishop ; ' I should have thought you would 
at least have learned to answer from the youth who spoke before 
you f and he gave my priest a glance, which called the blush of 
confusion into his face. I was extremely gratified, so were my 
friends in general, and my pious father in particular. Mr, John 
Wesley now made us a visit, he paid me the most distinguishing 
attention, and the regards of such a man were, to a young heart, 
truly flattering ; he cherished the idea, that I should shortly become 
a useful laborer in the field, which he so sedulously cultivated. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



27 



One thing, however, gave him anxiety, — the probability that I had 



the Calvin istic tenets ; yet he hoped better things of me, and things 
which accompanied salvation. When in my father's house, he 
manifested toward him the greatest kindness and friendship ; but 
on leaving the country, he charged bis followers to keep a strict 
watch over him, lest, through the influence of his great piety, he 
should infuse his abominable sentiments into the minds of some of 
the brethren. Mr. Wesley's disciples considered him the apostle of 
the age : and I experienced a reverential awe in «his presence ; yet 
there were points in his conduct, which excited my wonder, and 
which, in any other character, I should not have hesitated to pro- 
nounce wrong; but I should have believed it criminal even to sus- 
pect that he could err. My religion was becoming more and more 
formal, it seemed a body without a soul, Sometimes, indeed, when 
listening to a lively, warm-hearted preacher, I was made most 
keenly to feel the poverty of my condition ; that, while 1 was be- 
lieved rich, and increasing in goods, having need of nothing, I wdi 
in truth miserably poor, blind, and naked, This consideration oft- 
en rendered me sad, in proportion as I appeared to suffer : I became 
the object of respectful attention. Glooms, and melancholy, were 
considered as infallible signs of a gracious disposition, not only by 
my father, but by all my religious connexions. One of our preach- 
ers used to say, he had rather be in the company of a thousand 
demons, than ten laughing persons ! Unfortunately for the mainte- 
nance of my standing in the society, my sadness was not uniform, 
and, preserving no medium, 1 always became gay in full propor- 
tion to my previous depression ; and, in truth, cheerfulness was be- 
coming the prevailing tem^r of my mind, and I know not how 
long it might have continued so, if I had not observed, to my great 
consternation, that 1 was daily losing ground in the estimation of 
my associates. This conviction banished my dangerous vivacity, 
and restored my respectability. I now sedulously avoided society, 
and frequently envied those who were released from this danger- 
ous world. I have often, after a night of suffering, risen with the 
dawn, and entering the church-yard, have passed hours there, con- 
templating the happy state of those who were lodged in their nar- 
row house, and ardently longing to be as they were. Even my 
father began to fear that I was rapidly declining, and by his conse- 
quent tenderness I was beyond expression touched. 

I cannot now determine how long this frame of mind continued, 
but this I know, that it lasted long enough to gain me more repu- 
tation, both at home and abroad, than I had lost ; there was such a 
variety in my feelings, the changes in my spirit from sad to gay, 
from gay to sad, were so frequent, that I had of course far more ex- 
perience than any other person of my age. The young, when un- 
der awakenings, always resorted to me for comfort and informa- 
tion, while the old hung with delight on my narrations: the pray- 
on of my father obtained due credit ; the child of so many prayers 



imbibed my father's damnable 




:iples, for such he denominated 



29 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



could only be as I was. I was at this time about sixteen years of 
age, but commencing life so early, I felt like twenty, and I antici- 
pated all the enjoyments which awaited me. 

About this period, (1757) our society was gratified by a most un- 
expected acquisition. A gentleman of great fortune, who had been 
a virulent opposer of the Methodists, became a zealous convert to 
their tenets, and with his lady, joined our congregation: no event 
had ever given such exultation, such complete satisfaction. They 
had belonged to the Presbyterian meeting, and their numerous kin- 
dred, worshipping there, continued inveterate adversaries. Be- 
tween my father and the new convert the warmest friendship took 
place ; and his good lady, who was indeed one of the first of wo- 
men, became as warmly attached to our family as her husband. 
They had been converted at the same time ; and as new converts 
are always the most zealous, this good couple, although advanced 
in years, used to rise at four in the morning, in the depth of win- 
ter, and go round among the neighbors, in order to arouse them in 
time to attend morning service, which was regularly at five o'clock, 
winter and summer ; our house being in the way, they never omit- 
ted calling upon us : my father was not always well enough to ac- 
company them, but I never failed, and the delight they took in me 
was great. Their family consisted of two sons, one older than my- 
self, and one of my own age, and two daughters younger than their 
brothers: for a long season this family and ours spent at least a 
part of every day together ; they met constantly at church, and had 
beside many private interviews. Mr. Little, the name of our new 
friend, belonged to a class of which my father was the leader, and 
Mrs. Little to my mother's band. The classes generally consisted 
of twelve, beside the leader. The bajf?i was formed from the class- 
es, and consisted of six, beside the leader. These bands were com- 
posed of true believers, and of one sex and condition : the single 
women, the married women, and the widows ; the single men, the 
married men, and the widowers. My mother was a leader of a 
band of married women. The youth I have mentioned, of my own 
age, sought and obtained my confidence ; I conceived for him the 
warmest affection, and I had every reason to suppose the attach- 
ment mutual : we passed many delightful hours together, and the 
discovery of our friendship gave real satisfaction to our parents. 
The eldest son adhered to the church the family had left; and the 
only daughter who was of age to decide, embraced the principles 
of her parents. From our connexion with these worthy people, I 
derived great pleasure ; I was much beloved by the principals of 
the family, and 1 had great delight in the society of their children. 
I have frequently retired with my young friend to read, and pray : 
we had in fact no solitary pleasures. It was in the closet of this 
friend, that I first became acquainted with Addison, Pope, Parnell, 
Thomson, and Shakspeare : we read those writings together; nev- 
er shall I forget the avidity with which I seized, and the delight 
with which I perused those authors ; I was beyond expression fas- 



LIPS OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



29 



cinated by their numbers ; but I thought best carefully to conceal 
this new source of enjoyment from my father. The library, to 
which I thus obtained free access, was very extensive : besides the 
books already named, it contained much to attract a young mind ; 
novels, essays, and histories, by a frequent perusal of which, I was 
both informed and improved. Thus, in the full enjoyment of 
sweet serenity, glided on many happy months ; my time was divid- 
ed between the habitation of my father and his friends. I enjoyed 
the warm regards of every individual of this amiable family, the 
eldest son excepted, nor was he a malignant foe ; he contented him- 
self with making a jest of our devotion, which only served to at- 
tach us more closely to each other : but as the affection of the 
youngest son grew for me, it appeared to diminish for his brother. 
This fact rendered his parents unhappy, and I myself was serious- 
ly afflicted, lest I should be regarded either directly or indirectly, 
as the source of their inquietude. They, however, did not hesitate 
to impute to their eldest son's aversion from religion every thing un- 
pleasant between their children, and I had credit for my full share 
of that rectitude and correct conduct, to which their youngest son 
was, by nature, so uniformly inclined. It must, however, be con- 
fessed, that the first-born was not without causes of irritation: I was 
evidently the brother of his brother's affection ; I was the object of 
his parents' regard ; his eldest sister discovered, on all occasions, a 
very strong partiality for me, and even the youngest, a child of 
about six years old, made me the confidant of all her little secrets, 
often hung about my neck with infantile fondness, while her sweet 
endearments were precious to my heart, It was not, then, I repeat, 
very wonderful, if the young gentleman, who felt himself aggriev- 
ed, should become very unhappy, and very much my enemy. While 
I was thus considered as a child of this family, a young lady, a dis- 
tant relation of Mrs. Little, was introduced as a visitor ; she also 
was a Methodist, and of great piety. My young friend and myself, 
were in the parlor when she entered, but soon withdrew, when we 
both agreed, she was the most ordinary young woman we had ever 
beheld. She was, I presume, more than twentyrfive years of age, 
under the common stature, of a very sallow complexion, large fea- 
tures, and a disagreeable cast in her eye ; yet this same young lady 
had not been more than three weeks under the same roof with us, 
before we both became violently in love with her. Many days 
however elapsed, before either became acquainted with the passion 
of the other ; but I could never conceal anything long, especially 
from this my second self; and on a summer evening, as we pursu- 
ed our usual walk through a flowery mead, on the margin of a 
beautiful river, both sadly pensive and sighing, as if our hearts were 
breaking, my friend mournfully inquired : * What, my dear Murray, 
afflicts you ? why are you so sad V I am ashamed of myself, I 
cannot tell you the cause of my distress. ' Not tell me ! would 
you, can you conceal anything from me ? ' I felt the full force of a 
question, asked in a tone of endearing sympathy, No, my friend, 



30 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



you shall be made acquainted with my whole heart ; I will have no 
reserves to you ; but you, you also are unhappy, and I am ignorant 
of the cause ! ' Depend on it, I shall not hesitate to give you every 
mark of confidence, when you shall set the example.' Well, then, 
my brother, my friend, will you not wonder, (and indeed I am my- 
self astonished) when I assure you, that I have conceived for Miss 
Dupee the strongest and most tender passion ! He started, appear- 
ed confused, and for some moments we both continued silent. At 
length, taking my hand, he said : 4 1 pity you, from my soul, nor do 
I blame your attachment; for, however unattractive in person, who 
that hears Miss Dupee converse, who that has any knowledge of 
her mind, can avoid loving her, even as you love her ; and to prove 
to you how fully I am qualified to sympathize with you, let me 
frankly own, that I also love this charming woman.' 

This unexpected avowal greatly afflicted me : I trembled, lest so 
strong a passion for the same object should eventually prove fatal 
to our friendship. I expressed to this dear, amiable youth my ap- 
prehensions, when he caught my hand, and with glistening eyes, 
exclaimed ; ' Never, my brother, no never shall anything separate 
between thee and me. By first communicating your sentiments, 
3 r ou have acquired & prior right, which I will not, dare not invade. 
No one else shall hear of my infant love ; I will not allow myself to 
see her, but when seated by your side ; and although I love her more 
than any body I ever have, or, as I believe, ever shall see, I never 
will be the cause of your unhappiness.' This generosity was tru- 
ly affecting. I caught him to my bosom ; I wept, I even sobbed 
as I held him to my heart ; and, unable to bear his superiority, I 
exclamed : No, my noble-hearted friend, never will I accept such a 
sacrifice: we are yet to learn for which of us her heavenly Father 
has designed this treasure. Let us both, as occasion may occur, 
indulge ourselves in her society, and should the event prove that 
you are the highly favored mortal, I hope, and believe, I shall wil- 
lingly resign her and content myself with listening to her heavenly 
accents. And, truth to say, she possessed a mostenchanting voice; 
a most fascinating manner, admirably calculated to gain hearts, es- 
pecially young hearts, simple, and softened by religion ; and, what 
was above all bewitching, she sang the most divine of Mr. Wesley's 
hymns in a most divinely impressive manner. While, however, we 
were mutually acceding to this wise plan for the disposal of Miss 
Dupee, it never once entered into our heads, that she very possibly 
was not designed lor either of us. Perhaps few youthful bosoms 
have ever endured a greater conflict between love and friendship: 
we experienced both in no common degree, but friendship in both 
our hearts become triumphant. The amiable woman continued, 
for some time, decidedly the object of our deliberate election ; but 
I had, however, reason to believe my attachment the strongest, for 
it deprived me of both rest and appetite. For the first time, I be- 
gan to tag rhymes: I have sat by the hour together upon an emi- 
nence, whence I could behold her habitation, poetizing, and sigh- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



31 



ing as if my heart would break ; I had some reason to believe she 
had discovered, and was diverted with my passion ; indeed she 
must have laughed at me, if she had not despised me. After a 
Jong struggle between my hopes, and my fears, I ventured to ad- 
dress a letter to Miss Dupee, filled with the warmest professions of 
eternal affection, and conjuring her at least to grant me leave to hope. 
I dared not entrust a domestic with this letter, lest it should be dis- 
covered by my father ; for the dread of meeting a refusal from my 
mistress was not more terrible to my imagination, than that my fa- 
ther should obtain knowledge of my temerity. One night, there- 
fore, returning (from the society, with fear and trembling, I put my 
letter into her hand, humbly requesting she would honor it with a 
secret perusal. She took it, and, gypsey as she was, absolutely 
pressed my hand, which pressure almost suffocated me with trans- 
port. I parted from her at the door, and from that moment neither 
slept, nor ate, till I was cured, radically cured. 

It was upon a Wednesday night, I delivered my letter ; what did I 
not suffer from the torture of suspense, until Friday evening ; noth- 
ing could I hear of, or from her ; I was afraid to go to Mr. Little's ; 
I learcd every thing, but the thing 1 had most reason to fear — the 
contempt and indignation of my own father. It never once enter- 
ed my thoughts, that she would communicate my letter to any one, 
and least of all, that she would expose me to my father; but in- 
stead of writing me an answer, such an answer as my fond, foolish 
heart sometimes ventured to expect, she enclosed my very first 
love-letter to the very last person in the world to whom I should 
have chosen to confide it ! I was at this time debilitated by the 
want of rest and food, which, for the preceding fortnight, 1 had 
rarely taken ; and upon this Friday evening, as I entered the pre- 
sence of my father, an unusual dread pervaded my spirits. It is 
too true, I never appeared before him without apprehension ; but, 
upon this occasion, I was unusually agitated: but how were my 
terrors augmented, when my father, with a countenance of the 
most solemn indignation, ordered me to approach. The season of 
castigation had gone by ; indeed my father was too feeble to ad- 
minister corporeal chastisement; but, like the Prince of Denmark 
although he did not use daggers, he could speak them — he could 
look them. I cannot now remember who, or rather how many, 
were present ; my mother, and my brothers and sisters, of course. 
My poor mother, I am confident, felt keenly for me, although she 
dared not interfere. ' Come hither, sir,' said my father ; * approach, 
I say.' I drew near, with fear and trembling, but yet I knew not 
why : when, fixing his piercing, penetrating eyes upon me, with a 
look of such sovereign contempt, as almost struck me blind, he be- 
gan very deliberately to search his pockets ; after a pause, which 
seemed interminable, out came a letter. I was instantaneously 
covered with a most profuse perspiration ; I trembled and became 
so faint, that I was obliged to catch at a chair for support. But 
my father continued slowly opening the killing letter, and looking 



32 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



alternately at it, and its author, and curling his nose, as if his olfac- 
tory nerve had been annoyed by something extremely offensive, he 
again fixed his eyes upon me, and tauntingly said : * So, you poor, 
foolish child, you write love-letters, do you ? you want a wife, do 
you ?' and, feigning an attempt to read it, but pretending inability, 
he extended it to me, saying : 4 Take it, thou love-sick swain, and 
let us hear how thou addressest thy Dulcinea.' I buret into tears, 
but I confess they were teal's of wrathful indignation, and at that 
moment I detested the lady, my father, and myself. ' Go,' contin^ 
ued my father * Go, thou idle boy, depart instantly out of my sight 
and out of his sight I accordingly went, almost wishing I might 
never again appear before him. This night I parted with my pas- 
sion for Miss Dupee ; I sighed for an opportunity of opening my 
heart to my ever faithful friend ; 1 expected consolation from 
him, and I was not disappointed. Suspecting the business was the 
subject of conversation in the house of Mr. Little, I determined to 
go thither no more : with my friend, however, I took my usual 
walk ; he perceived the sadness of my soul, but it was a consola- 
tion to me to learn, that he was ignorant of the cause: I poured 
my grief into his bosom, and his indignation was unbounded; ha- 
tred for Miss Dupee grew in his soul ; yet, when I knew she had 
the goodness never to communicate my folly to any one, but my 
father, and this in a private letter, I could not but esteem hen So 
here rested the affair, and I wrote no more love-letters, until I ad- 
dressed the lady whom I married. Though I was not by this tor- 
turing business exempted from la belle passion, yet I was prevent- 
ed by my fears from its manifestation. In fact it was not until 1 
was in a situation to make an election, as I supposed for life, that 
I was again condemned to struggle with a sentiment so imposing, 
as that which had occasioned me so much vexation. Many fair 
faces attracted, and for a time fixed my attention, and I sometimes 
looked forward to the brightest, purest scenes of domestic felicity, 
which were however as visionary as could have been conceived 
in the pericranium of the most confirmed lunatic. 

The religious melancholy, so pleasing to my father, again took 
possession of my mind ; once more at early dawn I haunted the 
churchyard, frequently repeating to myself, 

1 The man how blest, who, sick of gaudy scenes, 
Is led by choice, to take his favorite walk 
Beneath death's gloomy, silent cypress shades, 
To read his monuments, to weigh his dust, 
Visit his vaults, and dwell among the tombs.' 

The intervening hours of pablic worship, on Sunday, were paw- 
ed by me at church, in appropriate meditation and prayer : the sol- 
emnity of the place aided my aspirations, .and rendered me abundant- 
ly more gloomy ; but the versatility of my disposition still gave me 
to emerge, and I was then proportionably vivacious. In this zig- 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



33 



zag manner I proceeded, gaining something every day, while I en- 
joyed a fine state of health, and the happiness of being much be- 
loved by a large circle of respectable connexions. I still continued 
to cultivate my garden ; it was the best in the place, and being seen 
and admired by many, my pious brethren were apprehensive it 
w T ou!d become my idol ; but we all have our idols. Mr. Wesley 
was the idol of the many. One evening at a love-feast, when the 
whole society were assembled, a pious sister, while narrating her 
experiences, looking earnestly at Mr. Wesley, vehemently exclaim- 
ed: 'O! sir, I consider myself as much indebted to God for you, 
as for Jesus Christ?' The whole company were greatly surprised, 
and, as I believe, expected Mr. Wesley would have reproved her 
for this speech ; but it passed, without any then expressed observa- 
tion. The ensuing day it became the subject of animadversion, 
when I undertook to defend her, by remarking, that as she never 
could have had any advantage from Jesus Christ, if she had never 
heard of, and believed in him ; she certainly was as much indebted 
to Almighty God for sending Mr. Wesley, through whom she ob- 
tained this redeeming knowledge, as for the Saviour, in whom she 
believed ! ! 

My close connexion with my young friend, although very pleas- 
ant to my social propensities, subjected me, nevertheless, to some 
pain. He was indulged with more pocket money, than I could 
command ; and although he considered his stipend never so well 
employed as when it contributed to my convenience, yet, disliking 
dependence, I had recourse to methods of obtaining money, which 
did not always please me ; I sometimes borrowed, and sometimes 
solicited gifts from my mother, which I did not find it easy to re- 
pay. It would have been well if neither my companion, nor my- 
self, had been in the habit of spending money ; we derived there- 
from no advantage ; it introduced us into company, where we were 
apt to forget ourselves ; it is true we were never inebriated, but we 
were often gay, and, for religious characters, too much off* our guard. 
This dear youth was nor, like me, habituated to religion, he was 
not early disciplined by its most rigid laws ; I could with abundant- 
ly more facility turn aside with him, than he could pursue with me 
the narrow path, in - which I had generally walked. We became 
gradually too fond of pleasures, which would not bear examination ; 
yet they were such as the world denominated innocent, although they 
strongly impelled us to gratifications disallowed by religion. We 
were now fast advancing in life, and, with all the enthusiasm of 
youth, we were planning schemes for futurity, when lol my precious,, 
my early friend, was seized by a malignant fever, which soon de- 
prived him of his reason. I was on the verge of distraction. I en- 
treated permission to tarry constantly by his bedside ; the progress 
of the disease was astonishingly rapid, and in a few days this dear, 
this amiable youth, whom I loved as my own soul, expired in a 
strong delirium! Every one regretted the departure of this young 
man ; every one sympathised with his parents, and many extended 



34 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY, 



pity to me. I was indeed beyond expression wretched ; it was the 
first calamity of the kind, which I had ever been called to suffer, 
and my agonies were in full proportion to the strong affection, 
which 1 had conceived for the deceased. Society no longer pos- 
sessed a charm for me, and yet the parents of the dear departed 
never willingly permitted me to quit their presence ; indeed, the love 
they had borne their son, seemed to be entirely transferred to me ; 
but their sufferings were incalculably augmented, when, in a few 
succeeding weeks, their eldest and only surviving son, fell a victim 
to the same fatal malady which had deprived them of his brother : 
Never before did I witness such sad and heart-affecting sorrow ! 
a gloomy religion is always increased by scenes of melancholy ; 
hence the horrors of my mind were beyond description. Every- 
thing I had done, every word I had uttered, not strictly conforma- 
ble to the rule of right, returned upon my mind with redoubled 
terror, and in the midst of these agonizing fears, I was violently 
seized by the same fever, which had destroyed my friend. I was, 
upon the first appearance of this mortal disease, exceedingly alarm- 
ed, but in a few hours it prostrated my reason ; my mother appear- 
ed to ine as a stranger, and although I recognized my father, I was 
not afraid of him. I understood everything which was said by 
those about me, and I suffered much in consequence of their ex- 
pressed apprehensions and predictions : and I have often thought, 
that attendants in the chamber of sickness do not sufficiently con- 
sider the situation of the suffering patient, or the possibility, that the 
freedom of their remarks may augment his depression. 1 continu- 
ed to linger, in the midst of extreme torture, through many weeks ; 
and so high and unremitted was my delirium, that my parents, from 
a persuasion, that, should I be restored to health, my reason was 
forever lost, were reconciled to my departure. One particular I 
consider as astonishing; every thing, which passed in rny mind 
through the whole of this protracted delirium, I can, to this day, 
recollect as well as any event which has taken place in any part of 
my life. Contrary to the expectations of surrounding friends, I was 
gradually restored to perfect health, when I became still more en- 
deared to the parents of my deceased companions; they would 
have laid me in their bosoms, gladly cherishing me as the son of 
their affection. The old gentleman visited my father every day, 
and his lady was equally intimate with my mother. I wept with 
them, T prayed with them, and every day our mutual attachment 
acquired new energy. They expressed their wishes to my father, 
that I should become a permanent resident in their family. My 
father, apparently terrified, was unqualified in his rejection ! It 
would injure me by too high-raised expectations ; it would give me 
indulgences, fatal to my future peace and happiness. For myself, 
1 had recently entertained an exalted opinion of my father; and for 
his repeated, and, as I once believed, severe chastisements, gratitude 
glowed in my bosom ; consequently I was not inclined to act con- 
trary to his wishes in any respect, and he had sufficient address to 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



35 



avoid offending his friends. In fact, so exalted was their opinion 
of his wisdom and piety, that they would have considered it crim- 
inal to censure him. 

1 was now the very shadow of my father: I visited, it is true; 
but it was always under his guardian care. He began to derive 
pleasure from conversing with me, and our satisfaction was mutual: 
still, however, I experienced, in his presence, more of reverential 
awe, than filial tenderness ; yet I gained more from his society in 
the last six months of his existence, than I had for many preced- 
ing years. His gradual decline, at length rapidly advanced ; sud- 
denly he became too much enfeebled to go abroad ; his fri<;nds, who 
were numerous, visited him frequently. Mr. Little, and lady, were 
almost constantly with him : they congratulated him, that God had 
heard his prayers, and given him a son to supply his place, when 
he should be called home; this, indeed, he considered as a great 
consolation. Often with tears of pleasure has he wept over me, 
solemnly consecrating me by fervent prayer and devout supplica- 
tion. His devotional exercises, in his family, were continued until 
the last week of his existence ; even when his voice was so low* 
that he could scarce articulate a word, we were drawn areund him, 
when in whispers, as it were, he would, in the most moving man- 
ner, address the throne of grace in our behalf; and for me, as his 
first-born son, his orisons were still more frequently offered up, and 
always with tears. For many years my father had lost his appre- 
hensions of death ; but he always suffered more or less in the dread 
of dying. The taking down the house of his earthly tabernacle, — 
the agonies of dissolving nature, — these anticipations frequently ap- 
palled his soul. We had got into Passion Week; my father was 
taker! from his bed every day, until Good Friday, when it was 
impressed upon his mind, that he should be with his Redeemer 
upon Easter Sunday. He indirectly communicated this assurance 
to my mother ; commanding me to be immediately summoned to 
his presence, when he thus addressed me : ' My son, the object of 
my soul's affection, for whom, during many years, I have wept 
and prayed, you see your weeping, praying father, now totally un- 
able to utter a prayer, nor shall I ever pray in this dear family again. 
Let me, my dear, before I leave you, have the felicity of seeing, 
and hearing you take upon you the character you will very speedi- 
ly be called to sustain ; let me bear you pray in the family, before I 
depart.' There was something terrible in the thought of his depar- 
ture, though we had for many years been taught to expect it, not 
only by his declining health, but by his conversation, which had 
rendered us familiar with death. I cannot remember a day, on 
which he did not, on his first appearance in his family of a morn- 
ing, say, 1 Blessed be God, we are one day nearer our eternal rest :* 
yet the thought of assuming his place in his family, in his pre- 
sence ; this was more terrible to me than death itself. 1 became 
convulsed ; a cold perspiration was diffused over my frame ; my 
father saw my agony, and bidding me sit down, took my hand, and 



36 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



addressing me in the language of sympathy, most affectionately, 
most tenderly said : 4 You have, my poor boy, often addressed your 
heavenly Father, and have not felt abashed : ought you to venerate 
your feeble, earthly father, more than the God who made you ? At 
the throne of grace I am upon a level with my son, and I need re- 
deeming mercy as much as yourself. Let me, my dear child, be 
blessed with the privilege of seeing, and hearing you, in your new, 
and highly responsible character, this night.' I was dumb, I could 
net speak : my mother was requested to summon the family. 
'Come,' said my father, 'come near me, my children. God is 
about to remove from you your father, your supplicating father; 
but my God, your God, will never leave you, nor forsake you. He 
will give you, in your brother, a friend, a guide, a father; you must 
consider him, when J am gone, as in my stead ; you will unite with 
him in prayer, you will follow his direction, and God will abun- 
dantly bless you together. My prayers on his behalf are gracious- 
ly answered ; they will, my beloved chlidren, be answered on your 
behalf also ; fur He, who hath promised, is faithful, your father hath 
proved Him faithful. Our God is indeed worthy to he trusted, 
His service is perfect freedom ; serve the Lord, my children, and 
be happy ; obey your dear mother, strengthen the hands of your 
brother, and felicity will be your portion.' He would have pro- 
ceeded, but weakness prevented ; recovering himself, he called up- 
on ine to make good his expectations; 1 kneeled down by his bed- 
side in convulsive agony, my mother kneeling upon the opposite 
side ; my brothers and sisters forming a circle which surrounded it, 
while the domestics kneeled near us. I prayed, I wept, I audibly 
sobbed : while my, only not divine, father, was in ecstacy. When 
I had finisher), 'Now, O Lord,' he exclaimed, Met thy servant de- 
part in peace, for mine eyes have seen, for my ears have heard, for 
my heart has felt, thy salvation. Come near me, my darling boy.' 
Instantly I ran, and again I kneeled by his bedside ; he drew my 
head to his bosom, he wept over me, but his tears were tears of 
transport, when, laying his dying hand upon my head, he thus fer- 
vently supplicated : 'O thou, Almighty God, who hath thus blessed, 
greatly blessed thy poor servant: Thou who hast been my God, 
and my guide, even unto death, bless, oh ! bless this son, with whom 
thou hast blessed thy feeble supplicant : Give him thy supporting 
presence through life, direct him in the way he should go, and nev- 
er leave him, nor forsake him : Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, thou 
covenant-keeping God, bless, bless, O ! bless this lad — ' Here his 
heart swelled too big for utterance ; after a few moments recover- 
ing himself a little, he mildly requested me to place him properly 
in his bed. I was beyond measure shocked to see what a skeleton 
he had become, his bones in many places through his skin. It was 
my wish to tarry with him through the night, but I could not ob- 
tain permission. • Go, my dear son,' said he, ' go to rest, and the God 
of your fathers be ever with you.' This was the last time I ever 
heard his voice j before the morning dawned, I was summoned to 



LIFE OF RET. JOHN MURRAY. 



87 



attend not a dying, but a deceased parent, whose value, until that 
agonizing moment, 1 had never sufficiently appreciated. My moth- 
er continued by his bedside, overwhelmed by sorrow ; the slum- 
bers of my father were sweet, calm, and unbroken, until near mid- 
night, when she perceived he was awake, and believing him to be 
speaking, she inclined her ear to his lips, and heard him say, while 
his heart, his full heart, seemed nearly bursting: 'The souls of be- 
lievers are at thek death made perfectly holy, and do immediately 
pass into glory ; but their bodies, being still united to Christ, do rest 
in their graves till the resurrection.' After a pause, he resumed : 
1 At the resurrection, they shall be openly acknowledged, and ac- 
quitted in the day of judgment, and made perfectly blessed in the 
full enjoyment of God through eternity : Blessed, perfectly bless — .' 
Blessed, he would have said, but he breathed no more. When I 
approached the bed of death, I beheld the remains of the departed 
saints precisely in the position in which a few hours before I had 
placed him Not a single struggle had the dear, apprehensive man, 
during those expiring moments, which, through his whole life, he 
had expected would be productive of such extreme torture. He 
slept in Jesus, in full confidence of a glorious resurrection. 

From this hour, until the interment, our house was thronged ; 
but of all our numerous friends, who by their presence expressed 
their sympathy, no individuals appeared more deeply affected than 
my future patrons, Mr. and Mrs. Little. My father was very dear to 
Mr. Little ; he mingled his tears with the widow, and her orphans. 
It was unnecessary to tell me I had sustained an irreparable loss ; 
my heart, my pierced heart, was every moment making the avow- 
al; I could now fully appreciate my father's worth; I felt I was 
bereaved, miserably bereaved ; left to myself, and I knew myself 
well enough to justify the most spirit-wounding apprehensions. I 
retired to my chamber, to my closet, secretly indulging my over- 
whelming sorrow, and if I ever experienced the fervor of devotion, 
it was then, when, throwing abroad my supplicating hands, I pe- 
titioned the God of my father to be my God also, entreating that he 
would graciously vouchsafe to preserve me from myself, my sinful 
self: all the hard, undutiful reflections, which I had secretly tolera- 
ted against this good, this honored man, while he was enduring ex- 
quisite sufferings for the purpose of preserving me from evil, rush 
ed upon my recollection, and an innate monitor seemed to say : 
' You may now, ungrateful boy, go where you please ;. the prying 
eye of a father will no more inspect your conduct.' It was now, 
in these moments of torture,, that my father, as it should seem, first 
became known to me. It is truej he was severely good, his con- 
science was indeed sorely tender ;, but, as far as he knew, he per- 
formed the will of God, at least in as great a measure as he was 
able,, and when he believed himself deficient, as he almost always 
did, it gave him great pain.. The uniform sanctity of his life com- 
manded the respect, the esteem, the affection, and even the venera- 
tion of all who knew him. He possessed an uncommon share of 
4* 



38 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



natural abilities, and his acquirements were very respectable. He 
had read much ; History, Natural Philosophy, Poetry, these were 
all familiar to him; but the sacred Scriptures, and books of devo- 
tion, were his delight. Human productions constituted his amuse- 
ment, but the word of his God was his food. He was so acute a 
reasoner, that it was difficult to gain any advantage over him in ar- 
gument; yet he was easily provoked, but immediately sensible of 
error; every deviation from propriety was marked by tears. He 
had so much self-command, as never to strike a child in a passion ; 
this he denominated a demoniac sacrifice; he would first correct 
the angry man : but however painful the act, he never omitted 
what he conceived it his duty to bestow. He was a very tender- 
hearted man, and his prayers were rarely unaccompanied by tears. 
He mourned with the mourner, for he was himself a man of sor- 
row. Being for the last nineteen years of his life a confirmed inva- 
lid, he was constantly and fervently looking toward his heavenly 
home — sometimes with impatience, when, correcting himself, he 
would say, ' Well, well, heaven is worth waiting for; one hour, 
passed in the courts of my God, will be a rich remuneration for ail 
terrestrial sufferings.' 

It is the custom in Ireland, when any person of distinction or re- 
spectability is called out of time, to watch around their remains, 
nWht as well as day, until the body be entombed. The remains of 
my father were afi'ectionateiy attended, but they were attended in 
an uncommon manner; as he differed from others in life, so these 
last honors differed from those usually bestowed. The morning 
immediately succeeding his demise, our friends and neighbors as- 
sembled in our dwelling, when Mr. Little thus addressed them: 
' My friends, it hath pleased God to take unto himself the soul of 
our beloved brother; as he lived, so he died, a pattern of excel- 
lence ; we know, we feel, that he has not left his equal. We unite 
with this dear family in sensibly lamenting the departure of our 
experienced friend, our guide, our comforter. 5 Here he mingled 
bis tears with those of our attendant friends. After a long pause, 
he proceeded : ' Fellow mourners, the greatest respect we can pay 
to the remains of our inestimable, our heavenly guide, is to pass 
our time together in this house of mourning, not only for him, but 
for ourselves, in the way which would be most pleasing to him, 
were he present ; we will therefore appropriate our hours to read- 
ing, and to prayer. One of our brethren will address the throne of 
grace, after which I will read a sermon, the production of Mr. Ers- 
kine, of whose writings the dear departed was remarkably fond.' 
The prayer, the sermon, the concluding prayer, deeply affected eve- 
ry one ; and the evening witnessed a renewal of these pious exer- 
cises. Thus were our nights and days devoted, until the interment. 
On that day the throng was prodigious. The worth, the good ac- 
tions of my father, were the theme of many a tongue; his praises 
were echoed, and re-echoed, while tears of sorrow moistened ma- 
ny an eye. Every one bore in his, or her hand, to the grave-yard, 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



39 



a sprig of bays, which, after the body was deposited, was thrown 
over the coffin. But no words can describe my agonizing, my 
terrific sensations, when I reflected upon the charge which had de- 
volved upon me. I remembered my father's words, on the even- 
ing preceding his exit, and 1 felt myself reduced to the necessity of 
assuming his place in the family ; but how much was I to suffer 
by comparison with him, whose place I was appointed to fill : yet, 
had I wished to avoid entering upon my office, my mother, the 
friends of my father, would have borne testimony against me. 
They thronged around me, they entreated me immediately to take 
charge of the family, and to commence my arduous task by devout 
supplications to Almighty God. I complied with their united wish- 
es ; but no tongue can utter, no language can delineate the strong 
emotions of my soul ; again I was convulsed, again I agonized ; 
the whole famiiy were inexpressibly affected. It was the most 
melancholy evening I had ever experienced; but my benighted 
spirit was suddenly refreshed, by a ray of consolation, emitted by 
the cheering hope, that my father's God would be my God, and 
that the fervent prayers he had offered up, in my behulf, would be 
answered in my favor. I was encouraged too by my mother, and 
by the friends of my father, who besought the Lord in my behalf, 
and who were daily reminding me of the interest, which my de- 
ceased parent unquestionably had with the prayer-hearing God. 

Yet, although soothed, and greatly stimulated, my new employ- 
ment continued to distress and appal my spirit. The conviction of 
every day assured me, that I was unequal to the arduous task I 
had undertaken. My mother was my ever-ready aid and counsel- 
lor ; but my brothers and sisters always remembered, that I was 
not their father ; and they were highly displeased, whenever I pre- 
sumed to exercise over them paternal authority ; yet this I believ- 
ed to be my duty, and, that I might be in every thing like my fa- 
ther, I took up the rod of correction, seriously chastising my broth- 
er, for the purpose of restoring him to the narrow path, from which 
he had wandered. But, although I had learned of my father to use 
the rod, I never could make it answer the same purpose ; in my 
hand, it only served to increase the evil, it became the signal of re- 
volt; and, while my brother continued incorrigible, my other 
brothers, and my sisters, enlisted on his side. My mother, dear 
honored sufferer, was exceedingly distressed ; she had in fact a dif- 
ficult part to act ; she was fearl'ui, whichever side she might es- 
pouse, would, by creating new irritation, make bad, worse, and yet, 
upon an occasion so interesting, we would not allow her to be si- 
lent ; she must positively attend to our appeals. But however ar- 
duous her task, she possessed discretion sufficient to meet it, and 
to produce an ultimatum completely satisfactory to all parties. 

She replied to our remonstrances, by a request to be allowed un- 
til the evening, succeeding our complaints, for serious deliberation. 
The interesting evening came. 'Come, my children, all equally 
dear to my soul : come, the doors are now shut ; this is the time of 



40 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



evening service. There is the chair, which your pious, your affec- 
tionate father once filled. Can you remember the Inst time he ad- 
dressed you from that seat. Let me, my dear children, let me re- 
peat, as well as my memory will permit, what he said to us the 
last time he addressed us from that chair. 'Come,' said he, ' come 
near me, my children.' when, folding his arms around your elder 
brother, and pressing him to his bosom, while shedding over him 
abundance of tears, and pouring out his soul in supplication for 
him, he most affectingly said : ' I am, my dear child, hastening to 
that heaven, for which I have so long waited. For you, ever since 
you were born, I have wept and prayed : graciously hath my God 
inclined his ear to the voice of my supplication. He hath blessed 
me, by giving me to see you, before I die, prepared, by divine fa- 
vor, to take my place ; I leave you, my dear son, to act a father's 
part, when I shall be here no more ; let your mother, your brothers, 
and your sisters, receive from you that attention, and care, they 
can no more obtain from me ; but, although I shall be no more 
with you, your God, your father's God, will never leave nor for- 
sake you. Nay, my own beatified spirit may obtain increasing fe- 
licity, by being sometimes permitted to behold the order and har- 
mony of my beloved family, while collected before the throne of 
grace, with the love of God and love of each other glowing with 
divine ecstacy in every bosom.' It was then, my precious children, 
that your devout father clasped you separately to his bosom ; you 
remember how he then spake to you : ' I go, my beloved children ; 
you will no more hear my voice from this chair ; I shall no more 
be able to pray with you, to advise, or to direct you. But, my chil- 
dren, I leave with you a brother, who will perform to you the part 
of a father; I leave him in my place; it is my command, that he 
tread in my steps, as far as I have proceeded in the path of justice; 
and, my dear children, I conjure you to attend to his directions. 
The eldest son was, of old, the priest in the family of his father ; 
and if you love me, if you love your mother, if you would prove 
yocr love to God, or even to yourselves, contribute all in your pow- 
er to strengthen the hands of your brother.' You remember he 
then embraced each of you, and wept over you ; and I pray you 
to remember, that you then solemnly promised, to perform all 
which your dying father directed you to perform. Perhaps the 
saint may be at this moment beholding us, in this very spot, in 
which, a few days previous to his departure out of time, he so 

affectingly, so tenderly admonished us ' My mother paused, 

as influenced by sacred awe of the presence she had supposed. 
We audibly wept ; we rushed into each others arms, we embraced 
each other, and so long as we continued together, our affection, 
our piety, and our devotion were uninterrupted. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



41 



CHAPTER It 

Record continued, until the Author's Departure from Ireland. 

Launch'd from the shore, on life's rough ocean tost, 
To ray swolfn eye my star of guidance lost ; 
Torn, lrom my grasp, my path-directing helm, 
While waves, succeeding waves, my prospects whelm. 

Br the malpractices of the second husband of my maternal 
grandmother, a large share of my mother's patrimony passed into 
other hands. I accidentally obtained intelligence of some fraudu- 
lent proceedings of the great personage, by whom it was then 
holden. We did not possess ability to support a prosecution for 
the recovery of our rights. Some time after the demise of my 
father, the person, who resided upon the estate, was sued for rent ; 
to this person I communicated, in confidence, what I knew to be 
fact. I assured him, the great man who retained the estate had no 
legal claim to it ; and I advised him not to pay the rent. He fol- 
lowed my advice, and the business came before a court of judica- 
ture. The gentleman, who sued the tenant, summoned me, as a 
witness, to prove that the tenant bad occupied the house the speci- 
fied number of years; thus I was unexpectedly present at the 
trial, and the inteference of Providence produced a result, far 
beyond our most sanguine expectations. The tenant denied the 
right of the landlord to demand the rent, alleging, that if he paid it 
to him, he might hereafter be compelled to pay it to another. 
'To whom?' interrogated the court. 'To Mrs. Murray and her 
children, to whom the estate in question properly belongs.' I was 
called upon for an explanation, and 1 boldly pledged myself to 
prove the truth of the testimony delivered by the tenant; adding 
that I couid make such a statement, as would render the affair 
abundantly clear to their Honors. I was immediately silenced, by 
the lawyers upon the opposite side, who produced a deed of the 
contested property, signed, sealed, and delivered. 1 then requested 
the indulgence of the honorable court, while I observed, that, as 
I was not sufficiently opulent to procure council, I presumed to 
solicit permission to plead my own cause. Full consent was 
unhesitatingly granted ; when I proved, to the satisfaction of the 
court, and jury, that this deed was signed, after the death of the 
husband of my grandmother ; and further, that had the man been 
living, the right of disposal was not vested in him. I consumed a 
full hour and a half, in unfolding a scene of wickedness, not to be 
defended ; and 1 closed, by grateful acknowledgemnts to their 
honors, for the patience they had exercised. The jury retired, and 
ppeedily returned with a verdict in favor of the tenant. I imme- 
diately entered my claim, and a trial commenced, which terminat- 



42 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ed in my favor ; and I not only obtained the house in question, 
but two others, in like circumstances, to the no small satisfaction 
of the public, and the mortification of the great man and his law- 
yers. We immediately took possession of the house; and our 
utmost gratitude to that God, who had interposed for us, was most 
powerfully excited. Here I had a very large, and, in no long 
time, a very well-improved garden ; abounding with everything 
useful, and beautiful; herbs, fruits, and flowers, in great abun- 
dance ; and my situation was fully adequate, to my wishes. 
Harmony presided in our family ; but, alas ! gradually, as by com- 
mon consent, we grew more careless of our domestic duties, and 
more attentive to public affairs ; deriving a kind of amusement 
from what was passing abroad, which we could not obtain at 
home. We had many visitors, and consequently we frequently 
visited ; yet no individuals were so dear to us, as were Mr. Little, 
and his amiable family. I have repeatedly observed, that both 
Mr. Little and bis lady, had, from the death of their sons, regarded 
me even with parental affection : I was only not an inmate in their 
dwelling; and but for the charge, which the demise of my father 
had devolved upon me, they would not so long have delayed pro- 
posals, which, in a most serious manner, they ultimately made to 
my mother. Mr. Little was rather advanced in years ; he com- 
menced his career without property, but he was prudent and 
industrious; his lady was equally so : she brought her husband 
no more than one hundred pounds sterling, but she was a portion 
in herself. Although uncommonly economical, and careful, her 
charities were yet very extensive; she could assist, she observed, 
the children of penury, without loss ; for her resource was her 
own augmented industry. When this amiable couple became 
known to us. they possessed immense wealth ; and they had now 
but two surviving children — daughters. We were passing a 
pleasant evening in their hospitable dwelling, throwing the eye of 
retrospection over past scenes, until our hearts were greatly soften- 
ed. The departed sons, the deceased husband, and father, passed 
in review; and were alternately the subjects of conversation and 
regret. At length Mr. Little thus addressed us: 'I have lost my 
sons, and I have long viewed you, my young friend, in the stead 
of my buried children : it is true, I have many nephews, and I 
am urgently solicited to receive one of them under my roof; but I 
do not feel a freedom so to do, although I must absolutely have 
some one to assist rne in the arrangement of my affairs ; and I 
now tender to you, my dear young man, to you, who have so long 
been beloved by every individual of my family — I offer to you, the 
place of a son in my house, in my heart. And if you, madam, will 
consent ; and your son, thus sanctioned, will accept my proposal, he 
shall immediately take possession of the apartment of his deceased 
friend (my lamented son,) and I shall bless God for thus making 
up my Joss.' Mrs. Little, who sat by bathed in tears, most cordially 
united her solicitations. The offer was too great to be rejected, we 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



43 



accepted it with becoming gratitude, and, what rendered a propo- 
sal so liberal abundantly more pleasing, was an appearance, on the 
part of our benefactors, of having received instead of conferred an 
obligation. I attended my mcther home, with mingled sensations 
of pain and pleasure ; pain, from the consideration, that I was 
leaving a family, which I had been accustomed to view as, in a 
very tender sense, my own ; and with which I should never per- 
haps in like manner again associate; pleasure, from the reflection, 
that I was entering upon a new scene of life, from which I had a 
prospect, not only of independence, but affluence. It is true, 
upon my departure, which took place upon the succeeding morn- 
ing, I wept bitterly; so did my widowed mother, and her children } 
and my tears again flowed, upon entering the apartments of my 
dear young, friend, with whom I had passed so many pleasing hours. 
But, I was received by my new parents, and sisters, as the dearest of 
sons, and as the brother of their affection. Joy, soon exhilarated my 
spirits, and brightened upon my countenance: I had the warm 
congratulations of all my friends, for it was noised abroad, that this 
very opulent gentleman had adopted me as his son, and they went 
so far as to add, his son and heir. All this was very pleasing to 
me, but the kindred of Mr. Little were of course highly irritated, 
and I became so much the object of their envy and their hatred, 
that, whenever they visited their uncle, without deigning to speak 
to me, they studiously sought opportunities of insulting me. This 
gave me pain, but it did me no real injury; for, upon every 
instance of invidious conduct toward me, my parental friends, and 
their family, especially their daughters, studiously augmented their 
testimonies of esteem and affection. 

After I had passed some months with Mr. Little, he was visited 
by a young preacher, just entering the sacerdotal character, to whom 
I was much attached, and our friendship was mutual ; I was pre- 
vailed upon by this preacher to accompany him upon a little jour- 
ney; I departed with the sanction of my patron. 1 had, in the so- 
cieties with which I had been connected, occasionally exhorted ; 
and I had been frequently urged by several of their preachers to 
aid them in their labors. Upon this journey I was, if I may so ex- 
press myself) absolutely ensnared ; accompanying my friend to the 
assembled congregation, with an expectation of hearing him, he 
put his arm under mine, and helping me to ascend the temporary 
pulpit, erected for the occasion, he suddenly quitted me, and I was 
in a manner constrained to speak to the multitude. Thus, for the 
first time, I preached to a large concourse of serious and attentive 
hearers, in public ; and, although at the appointed time I returned 
to my much-loved home, I continued, as opportunity offered, from 
that time forward, preaching whenever I journeyed, and even at 
home, when necessitated by the absence of the preacher. This 
made some noise in our little world ; but, as it was not displeasing 
to my honored friends, I was not dissatisfied. My inveterate ene- 
mies, however, being the nearest, relations of the family in which 



44 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



I resided, were constantly endeavoring to undermine my interest 
in the heart of their kinsman. I was to pass some time in a neigh- 
boring city, and, to render my visit more pleasing, my patron, at my 
departure, furnished me with a sum of money ; this sum I care- 
lessly put into my pocket, without examination, until calling in my 
way, upon my mother, I discovered, that my patron had, as I sup- 
posed, made a capital mistake ; that he had given me gold, instead 
of silver. 1 mentioned this circumstance to my mother, in pres- 
ence of one of her neighbors ; and without announcing my design, 
I immediately returned home for the purpose of rectifying the er- 
ror. Upon my unexpected appearance before Mr. Little, with in- 
formation of his mistake, he smiled and said, that he never kept 
his gold and silver together. ' It was my design,' said he, 'to give 
you gold ; but I advise you not to throw it away.' I pursued my 
journey, and passed my time agreeably ; but whether I threw away 
the bounty of my benefactor, I do not, at this period, recollect; I 
only know that I brought not a shilling home with me : in fact, I 
was never sufficiently sensible of the value of money, to retain it 
in my possession. I was received on my return from this visit with 
uncommon pleasure ; and some time after, my kind patron, taking 
me into his private apartment, thus addressed me: 'I need not my 
dear, inform you, that you have many enemies, and I regret to say ? 
that those enemies are among my nearest relatives; but continuing 
in the paths of rectitude, you will be beyond the reach of their 
most malignant calumnies. Soon after you left home the other day, 
the clergyman, who has recently become the husband of my niece, 
called upon me, requesting a private audience ; and when retired 
into this room, he observed, that he conceived himself in duty 
bound to apprize rne, that I was not sufficiently acquainted with the 
character of the person I had adopted ; that he was not honest, that 
he had obtained money from me, to which he had no right. ' You 
gave him, sir, as you believed, some pieces of silver, but upon ex- 
amination they proved to be guineas; this fact I can prove: and if 
he could thus act, what may he not do?' J told this officious gen- 
tleman, that I had really intended to give you gold ; but that you, 
conceiving I had made a mistake, forbore to appropriate the mon- 
ey, and speedily returned home, for the purpose of making the com- 
munication. Our clergyman departed, and you will easily con- 
ceive, not a little humbled. I mention this circumstance to you, 
my son, to put you upon your guard. It is my wish, that, in future, 
you should not be so communicative.' This little anecdote was ex- 
ultingly repeated to me by the good lady and her daughters, who 
never failed triumphantly to report every little occurrence, which 
they believed would contribute either to my pleasure or reputation. 

My establishment in this family rendered me an object of envy, 
even among some of my religious connexions. Objections were 
raised against my supposed erroneous sentiments: I was more than 
suspected of retaining my father's Calvinistic doctrines. Mr. Wes- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



45 



ley received information against me. He set a watch over me ; 
thus fixing upon me the evil eye of suspicion. A maiden sister, 
considerably advanced in years, became a dependent resident in 
the family of her brother. Her character was marked by duplicity, 
and she delighted in mischief. The tales she propagated were as 
various, as the parties which listened to her narrations ; and all her 
communications were made under the strict seal of secrecy. Young 
and unsuspecting, I found it difficult to encounter enemies of such 
opposite descriptions. I had some friends, of whose affection I 
doubted not ; with these friends I passed much time, and I com- 
municated to them everything, and they, in their turn, communi- 
cated every thing to rne ; while many circumstances, thus confided, 
were, to my great astonishment, in circulation! My situation be- 
came uneasy to me : I was fond of being in company abroad ; this 
was very disagreeable to my friends at home ; they expected in me 
a friend and companion, who would, by reading and conversation, 
give to their fireside new charms ; and both parents, and daughters, 
were mortified and disappointed. Mr. Little expressed his disap- 
probation of my frequent absences. I was hurt; Mrs. Little shed 
tears, and entreated me to change my conduct. ' You have, said 
she, 'in this wide world no such friends as we are disposed to 
prove ourselves; you will be abundantly more happy at home, 
than you can be abroad. You should supply to us the place of our 
deceased children : we expect consolation from your society. You 
are greatly beloved in this house ; your enemies are not under this 
roof. For God's sake, if you have any regard for us, if you have 
any regard for any of your friends, if you would secure your own 
happiness, or the happiness of your mother, do not thus conduct.' 
Thus, with many entreaties, did this dear, affectionate lady, en- 
deavor to arrest my wandering ; and, while attending to her friend- 
ly lectures, my best resolutions were in full force, and I determin- 
ed never to offend again. But going out to meeting, one and 
another of my religious connexions would take me by the arm : I 
could not avoid engagements : and when I returned home, every 
individual of the family, Miss Little excepted, had frequently retir- 
ed to rest. The good girl waited to apprize me of her father's dis- 
pleasure. Much did she expostulate ; and her expostulations were 
not always unmingled with tears. My mother was rendered ex- 
tremely wretched : I saw the gathering storm, but I had no suffi- 
cient fortitude to abide its ravages. My enemies derived consola- 
tion from my indiscretion, and my infelicities daily augmented. 
Whenever I was censured, I was rendered more abundantly un- 
happy ; and I formed a serious resolution to quit both the family of 
Mr. Little, and the country, and to seek an asylum in my native 
place — England. For many days I continued obdurate, no remon- 
strances could influence me : I must absolutely commence a trav- 
eller— -I must go to England. I had no object, yet I must depart 
for England — I could not tell why, indeed. It was believed I was 
distracted. What, relinquish fortune, and such connexions, and 



46 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



such a prospect ? — for it was generally believed, that I was to be 
united in marriage with Miss Little. Nay, her father was informed 
by his kindred, that I was absolutely clandestinely seeking to gain 
the affections of the young lady ; and that they believed I was al- 
ready in possession of her heart. But Mr. Little gave no credit to 
this report: he knew, that my evenings were passed abroad, and 
that this was the only source of dissatisfaction. 

It happened, however, one evening, when I had been out late, and 
he, according to custom, retired to rest, I found, onmy return home, 
Miss Little waiting in the parlor, for the purpose of making a com- 
munication, which she conceived would be of consequence to me. 
We sat some time in conversation, by which we were mutually in- 
terested: she made known to me the invidious remarks of her un- 
cles and aunts, and their displeasure at her, for not uniting with 
them in their sentiments : she dwelt upon the grief, which my in- 
attention to the wishes of her parents occasioned them ; and, upon 
this part of her subject, she became affected even to tears. I also 
was greatly affected, and for the first time in my life, taking her 
hand, I impressed upon it a kiss of fraternal affection ; when, to 
our great astonishment, her father entered the apartment. Had we 
seen a spectre, we could not have been more appalled. He stood 
for some moments speechless, until fixing his eyes indignantly on 
irry face, which was certainly covered with confusion, in a very 
p< nted and significant manner, he said, ' So sir /' and, taking his 
cla. ^dter by the hand, he conducted her from the parlor, leaving 
me to my own reflections. Words are inadequate to the descrip- 
tion of my agonies, during the residue of that night. An idea of 
Miss Little, in any other character than that of a very dear sister, 
had never crossed my mind ; yet suspicion Was now furnished with 
a weapon against me, which would abundantly enforce the report 
retailed to Mr. Little, by his kindred. I have often wondered, that, 
at an age so susceptible of impression, I did not become more 
warmly attached to Miss Little : she was a most lovely, and amia- 
ble young woman ; and she certainly gave me every reason, which 
a modest, delicate, and sensible female could give, to believe she 
was not absolutely disinclined to listen to a tale of love. My apathy 
can only be accounted for, by a recurrence to an unquestionable 
fact ; my heart was wholly engrossed by my religious connexions. 
I passed this memorable night in my chamber, without entering my 
bed. I descended the stairs in the morning, with the feeling of a 
malefactor: I dreaded the sight of every one in the house. Mr- 
Little saw me, but spake not to me : Mrs. Little addressed me, in 
the language of kindness : their daughter was not present, and I am 
persuaded she was not reduced to the necessity of feigning indis- 
position, as a pretence for absence. After breakfast, Mrs. Little, in 
a whisper, directed me to retire into the back parlor, where she 
would speedily join me. With trembling dread I obeyed : she soon 
appeared, the shutters were closed, just light enough to see her, and 
be seen by her. I saw she had been in tears : she was a most kind- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



41 



hearted lady. I could not speak ; she commanded me to be seat- 
ed ; I drew a ehair for her, and another for myself : she sat down, 
and I seated myself by her. After a pause, she began: 'Tell me, 
I conjure you, tell me, what I ought to understand by the appear- 
ances of this morning? Answer honestly the questions I shall put 
to you : but I know your answers will be literally true. My poor 
girl is Very much distressed ; her father is very reserved, and very 
sad ; he will make no reply to my inquiries, and my child is also 
silent. Tell me, I repeat, what is the matter?' I came home late 
last night, madam ; no one was up but Miss Little, who, like an affec- 
tionate sister, inlbrmed me she had something to communicate to 
me, with which I ought to be acquainted: I listened to her, till I 
became greatly affected with what I heard, and, deeply sensible of 
her goodness, we were mingling our tears, when thus thrown off 
my guard, I regret to say, that I am apprehensive I committed an 
unpardonable offence. I am mortified, while I confess to you, my 
dear madam, that I had the boldness to press to my lips the dear 
hand, which seemed extended to rescue me from indiscretion ; but 
indeed, my dear lady, it was the first time I ever dared to take so 
great a liberty, and 1 would give the world I had not then been 
guilty of so much temerity. At the moment Mr. Little entered, I 
felt as if I should have sunk under his indignant glanee: Miss Lit- 
tle was greatly discomposed, while her father, with a voice render- 
ed tremulous by anger, significantly said — ' So, sir!' — and conduct- 
ed his daughter out of the room. This, my dear lady, is the whole 
I know of the matter. I fear, Miss Little will never forgive me, for 
creating her so much distress: I had infinitely rather be dead, than 
alive ; I dread the eye of Mr. Little, and it is my opinion, I ought 
immediately to quit your hospitable mansion. ' Alas ! my dear 
child, I know not what to say ; you believe you ought to quit us! 
Would to God you had never thus thought. This persuasion is the 
source of all our unhappiness. How often have I told you, that no 
enemy could ever injure you, if your own conduct was uniformly 
correct. You have deeply wounded a heart that loves you. I 
promised myself, that you would become a large addition to our 
domestic felicity. But you are apprehensive you have offended be- 
yond forgiveness ! Alas ! my daughter is more distressed for you 
than for herself; you know not how much she has suffered on your 
account ; you know not how much we all suffer ! Why, my dear 
child, will you thus afflict your best friend ? ' I am, my dear mad- 
am, grieved to have been the source of so much distress to persons 
so dear to me ; but I shall shortly be out of the way of offending 
any one. ' What do you mean ?* To quit this house, to quit this 
country. The dear lady threw her materal arms around me, and 
with flowing tears interrogated: 'Is it thus you will avoid offending 
us ? Ah, my dear child, how little do you know of us, or of yourself. 
For God's sake, let me persuade you not to take so rash a step ! 
Where would you go, and what would you do? Would you leave 
a home, an envied home, and thus, while you afflicted your dearest 



48 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



friends, gratify your malignant foes ? ' But, my dear madam, it is im- 
possible I can continue under this roof. Mr. Little will not restore me 
his confidence : my felicity in this family is fled, forever fled, f You 
are mistaken, your happiness rests entirely with yourself; be but 
uniformly discreet, be but the companion we expected, when we 
adopted you, and all will yet be well.' But, madam, the eye and 
ear of Mr. Little will now be (men against me; suspicion will be on 
the alert, and he will accept the tales of my enemies, as testimonies 
of sacred writ. 'Believe it not; think no more of this untoward 
business ; you have but one enemy who can essentially injure you, 
and that enemy is yourself. I will be responsible for my family ; 
you shall not be molested in this house, only convince us, that you 
love us ; do but prove, that you are more attached to us, than to any 
other individuals, and we are satisfied. Do but reflect, how de- 
lightfully we might pass our time together. The business of ihe day 
closed, and we assembled in the parlor ; you with you book, we 
your admiring audience, until we are summoned to supper ; then, 
after you have closed our serene day by an appropriate, and affect- 
ing address to the God who created, and who has hitherto preserv- 
ed us, we retire to an early pillow, soothed, and gratified, our sleep 
cannot but be refreshing. Why, what a paradise would our abode 
become. But, my child, when you pass every evening abroad, you 
know not what a melancholy group you render us. We are dumb ; 
our countenances are sad ; our silence is sometimes broken by Mr. 
Little, who questions in anger, ' Where is our young gentleman to- 
night? any society but ours!' Then follows a heavy sigh: 'Well, 
let us go to bed, it will be late before he returns ; but this will nev- 
er do.' We dare not open our lips, but my girls mingle their tears 
with mine.' Greatly moved by these observations, I sincerely re- 
pented of my past conduct ; and I determined I would, in all things, 
conform myself to the wishes of my parental friends. I beheld the 
family picture presented before me by the dear lady: I beheld it 
with rapture, and I decisively said : yes, indeed, my future even- 
ings shall all be devoted to a family so charming, and thus will my 
days be passed in peace. I promised the dear lady, solemnly I 
promised, that I would be all she wished ; and I communicated to 
her bosom inexpressible delight. I left her in tears, but they were 
tears of rapture: I retired to my chamber; I threw myself upon my 
knees, I supplicated pardon of my heavenly Father, and, with a de- 
vout heart, I implored his supporting aid. A petition to my Crea- 
tor always possessed the potent power of refreshing my soul: I was 
greatly refreshed, and I looked forward with renewed complacen- 
cy. In a few hours, I was summoned to dinner; at the door of 
the dining-room, I was met by Mr. Little ; no cloud rested upon 
his countenance : I entered the dining-room, where were seated my 
charming, my faithful friends, the mother, and her daughters ; their 
countenances were animated, but their eyes bore testimony to their 
previous agitation : our interview, and hour of dining, were highly 
gratifying. It is true, many words were not uttered, but there is, 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



49 



in the expressive eye and other intelligent features of a fine coun- 
fenance, a fascination which dwelleth not in words. Soon after 
dinner my little friend, the youngest daughter of my patron, visited 
me in my chamber, and bestowed upon me many caresses. 

Halcyon days and months now revolved ; I fondly fancied I had 
surmounted every difficulty, and I anticipated a succession of de- 
lightful enjoyments ; yet again I experienced the satiety, consequent 
upon one unvaried routine. He who had appointed me for a life 
of wandering, gave rne a disposition which was repugnant to the 
constant recurrence of the same scene: I ventured to pass one 
evening abroad : another, and another succeeded. I was severely 
reflected upon, and I felt it keenly ; conscious of meriting reproach, 
I was the more deeply wounded. I had been recently conversant 
with a young preacher from England ; my imagination was fired ; 
the world could not have longer detained me ; I condemned my- 
self for wasting so much time : my heart, my soul was in England, 
in London. Let the world bestow its censures, London was the 
place, it contained everything delightful j I was on tiptoe to be gone. 
If I was not approved by the family, so much the better; there 
would be less ingratitude in quitting it. My dear maternal friend 
once more sought, and obtained a private interview ; this I wished 
to avoid : she saw my reluctance, and was convinced she should 
not succeed. She reproached me: this, though painful, I could 
bear better than her tenderness. 'Then you will leave us,' said 
the dear lady. I am determined. 'You will repent it, sir; you will 
return with sorrow, and with shame ; when, possibly, you may not 
find these hospitable doors open to receive you.' Never, never ; I 
will die first. She paused, she raised her hands to heaven ; she 
looked— merciful God, I see her now before me : the impression of 
her varying countenance was unutterable ; tears coursed each oth- 
er down her pallid cheeks. Pausing for a few moments, she said : 
' Poor unhappy youth, you know not what you are about, where 
you are going,, and what you are doomed to suffer. Here, then, 
ends all my pleasing prospects; now indeed I have lost my sons, 
poor Anna, she has now in truth, no brother. Go, unhappy youth, 
go ; the sooner you depart, the better : I do not wish to see you 
again.' She left me, nor will I attempt a description of my sensa- 
tions. I retired to my chamber, my chamber now no more ; I 
wept, I audibly sobbed. In imagination I beheld the beloved friend 
by whom it was once occupied : he seemed to upbraid mo for my 
conduct: how torturing were the pangs I suffered. Upon the 
evening of this sad day, my cherub friend entered the chamber, and 
for the last time during my abode therein : pretty soul, she threw 
her arms around my neck, my face was wet with her tears ; she 
told me, that her sister was very, very sad ! On what occasion, my 
love ? ' Why, papa is very, very angry with you : and she says, 
you are going away to-morrow, she knows not where, and that she 
shall never see you again ; and she walks about her chamber, and 
wrings her hands : O! dear, O ! dear, I never saw her so much dis~ 
5* 



50 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



tressed before ! ' This was a truly affecting night, but it was the 
last I passed under that roof. I was not summoned to breakfast: a 
servant came to ask, if I would breakfast in my chamber, there 
could be no doubt of my negative. I saw by the countenance of 
this domestic, that I was fallen. About twelve o'clock, 1 received a 
message from Mr. Little ; he was alone ; I must attend him. My 
sufferings were great. To meet his eye was abundantly worse than 
death : I endeavored to avoid it. Some time elapsed before he 
spoke ; he repeatedly attempted to speak, but mingling grief and 
rage arrested his utterance. At last he said : ' Well, sir, you are 
going to commence your travels ?' This, with the manner in which 
it was spoken, relieved me. It was at that moment my choice to 
cherish resentment, rather than regret. I am going to England, 
sir. 'You are; well, and what are you going to do there? But 
this is no business of mine : yet I suppose it must be my business 
to know, how how you are to get there ; have you any money, sir ?' 
No sir. 1 Hold your hat, sir.' I did so, and be threw into it as 
much gold as he pleased, and, as I then believed, as much as would 
support me, if 1 should reach the extreme age allotted to man. ' Have 
you enough, sir? ' Yes, sir, quite enough, and God forever blesa 
you. ' Do you hear, sir, leave behind you my son's fowling-piece, 
and here ends my air-built castle ; ' and with a flushed countenance, 
and a tearful eye, he left me, nor did 1 evermore cross the threshold 
of his door. 1 turned my back upon this once delightful home, 
with mingling emotions of sorrow, mortification, regret, and anger ; 
all combining to produce unutterable anguish. My frame trembled, 
as I turned from the door; a chillness pervaded my heart ; sickness 
seized my stomach, and I had just sufficient presence of mind to 
turn the contents of rny hat into my pocket-handkerchief, when I 
sunk down upon the steps of the first door in my way. I was seen, 
and noticed by the people of the house, who conveyed me into their 
dwelling, and when they hail recovered me, questioned me re- 
specting the cause of my indisposition. I related, with my usual 
frankness, every particular, and in a short time, the story circulated, 
and with all the variations commonly attached to interesting arti- 
cles of intelligence. I was soon sufficiently restored to reach the 
residence of my mother, where a new scene of sorrow awaited me. 
The poor sufferer was beyond measure astonished at the step I had 
so rashly taken, and her distress was unutterable: she had promis- 
ed herself a long series of enjoyments, from the happy arrange- 
ments made for me ; and I suspect she contemplated, at no very 
distant period, a union between Miss Litlle and myself; and her 
consequent agony, when she learned that I had not only abandon- 
ed my home, and those flattering prospects, but that, in consequence 
of my fixed determination to repair to England, she was to lose 
me, perhaps, forever, the torture of her mind was, as I said, be- 
yond the reach of language: but neither her tears nor entreaties, 
strongly enforced by those of my brothers and sisters, could for a 
single moment shake my resolution. Whatever barriers might op- 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



m 



pose my wandering steps, to England I must depart. I saw, or 
seemed to see, the sacred shade of my father, first reproaching me, 
and then soothing me to a compliance witli the wishes of his mourn- 
ing family ; and, by the anguish of my feelings, my soul was har- 
rowed up: yet still, obdurate as I was, I continued inflexible. I 
could not endure to see, or be seen, in the vicinity of the abode 
which I had quitted ; and I made immediate preparations for my de- 
parture. I tendered to my disconsolate mother the money I had 
received from Mr. Little, not a penny of which she would accept: 
' No, my beloved child, if you must launch out upon the wide ocean, 
into a world of which you know but little, you will find this sum, 
large as it is, far short of your exigences. Through your filial ex- 
ertions, I am established in a dwelling, far beyond my most san- 
guine expectations, or even wishes; and, from your well-timed ef- 
forts, I derive many other advantages •, and if my God is about to 
deprive me of my son, I doubt not, His goodness and mercy, which 
have hitherto followed me, will still l>e manifest, both in my pro- 
vision and preservation, and in that of my helpless children.' My 
heart seemed ready to burst; conscience whispered, I was acting 
wrong, very wrong; yet even this conviction could not induce a 
relinquishment of my plan ; an irrenstible impulse seemed hurrying 
me on. Many instances, striking instances, in my long and weari- 
some life, combine to prove, that the way of man is not in himself; 
I, at least, have experienced the truth of this sacred testimony. As 
the time of my departure drew near, my feelings were still more 
keen. My mother, my brothers, my sisters, my friends, renewed 
their tears, and entreaties. I could not stem a torrent so mighty, and 
I determined I would abide with them. But it was the determin- 
ation of the moment, extorted by the mournful supplications of all 
who were dear to me ; and when they ceased to urge, I resumed my 
former resolution ; and my mother, from early life devoutly religious, 
mildly resigned herself to an event which she considered inevitable. 
4 1 see,' said she, 'supplications are ineffectual ; now I am indeed a 
widow 1' Starting at the desolate term [widow], so mournfully tit- 
tered, I hastened to my chamber, and prostrating myself before the 
throne of Almighty God, I seemed as if I were struggling with the 
agonies of dissolving nature. I would infinitely have preferred 
death, to a separation so exquisitely torturing. I besought the God of 
my father to have compassion upon me, never to leave nor forsake 
me; and while thus humbly and faithfully soliciting the Father of 
my spirit, renewed affiance grew in my bosom, and a voice seemed 
to say, ■ Go, and lo I am with you always.' Calmly reposing upon 
this assuarance, I retired to rest ; 1 quitted my pillow on the suc- 
ceeding morning, wonderfully refreshed. 

It was on that morning, that I met, for the last time, in the place 
of my dear, confiding father, his disconsolate family : it was indeed 
a time of prayer. My heart addressed the Father of mercies; I 
confessed with great sincerity, my manifold errors; and I petition- 
ed for a continuance of unmerited kindness ; I beseeched God to 



LIFE OP REt. JOHN MURRAY, 



look with pity on a poor, destitute, helpless being, commencing a 
journey through a world with which he was unacquainted. I en- 
treated our God, in behalf of my suffering mother, and her helpless 
orphans, that He would constantly abide with them ; and that he 
would vouchsafe an answer of peace to the many prayers, offered 
up in their behalf, by the husband and parent, now in glory. My 
mother was dumb; she saw the hand of God in this business, and 
she believed, that, as a sparrow falleth not to the ground without 
our heavenly Father, I could not thus leave my pleasant home, and 
wander I knew not whither, except the Lord directed. And, em- 
bracing me, when on the eve of my departure, she aflectingly said ; 
' Go, my first-born, my ever beloved son ; go, and may the God of 
your father be with you : Go, my darling son, on whom, while 
coming up from this wilderness, I fondly meant to lean ; but God 
will not allow me to lean on any but himself: Go thou, ever dear 
to my heart, and may our God be still near you, to preserve you 
from the evil which is in the world. The prayers of your afflicted 
mother shall be continually offered up in your behalf ; and oh ! my 
son, although we pert, never perhaps to meet again in this world, 
yet Jet us meet every day before that throne, whence we may ex- 
pect grace to help in every time of need ; let us be present in spirit, 
thus waiting upon the Lord. She then threw her fond, maternal 
arms around me, once more pressing me to that dear, that faithful 
bosom whence I drew my early nourishment. With tears of fond 
affection she bedewed my face, and again dropping upon her knees 
she once more lifted her streaming eyes to heaven in my behalf, 
when, starting up. she hastened to the retirement of her chamber, 
and instantly closed the door. I stood like a statue ; [ could not 
move ; I was almost petrified by sorrow. But from this state of 
stupefaction I was roused by the burst of sorrow, and loud lamen- 
tations of my sisters. I turned to the dear girls ; I wept with them, 
and endeavored to give them that consolation which I did not my- 
self possess. But, hastening from this scene of sorrow, there was 
one pang, whicn I calculated to escape. The youngest child, a 
beautiful little boy, who bore the name of my father — sweet cherub 
— I dreaded seeing him, and determined to spare myself this tor- 
ture ; but, as I slowly, and pensively passed from the house, believ- 
ing that what was worse than the bitterness of death had passed, 
this lovely little fellow crossed ray path. Sweet innocent, thou 
wert playful as the frisking lnmb of the pasture, totally ignorant of 
the agonies, which wrung the heart of thy brother. He ran to me, 
clung around my knees, and looking wishfully in my face, affect- 
ingly questioned — 'Where are you going?' I could not reply, I 
attempted to move on ; he took hold of my garment ; ' Let me go 
with you, brother?' He uttered these questions, ill a voice so 
plaintive, that I13 pierced rny very soul. Surely, had it been possi- 
ble, I should even then have relinquished my purpose. It was 
with difficulty that I extricated myself from this supplicating in- 
fant. I would have hastened forward, but my trembling limbs re- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



53 



fused their office ; I caught him in my arms, I pressed him to my 
aching bosom, and but for a burst of" tears, which came seasonably 
to my relief, the struggles of my heart must have choked me. I 
left him — yes, I left this youngest of my father's children, this dear 
object of my soul's affection, this infant charge, committed to my 
care, by an expiring father : I left him in the act of innocent sup- 
plication. I left him when I should, with a thousand times less of 
suffering, have quitted the clay-built tabernacle of my spirit ; nor 
had I aught in prospect, to compensate the sorrows to which I vol- 
untarily submitted!! Surely, there is a hand unseen, which gov- 
erns the human being, and all his actions ; I repeat, truly the way of 
man is not in himself. Few sufferings could surpass those which, 
upon this occasion. I endured : My bitterest enemy could not have 
censured me with more severity, than I censured myself ; yet I pass- 
ed on ; no friend could urge my return with more energy, than did 
the emotions of my own afflicted heart ; yet I passed on. True, I 
passed on slowly : a frame, enfeebled by mental agonies, is not 
moved without difficulty. I had sent my trunk on in the wagon, 
to the city of Cork, where I purposed to take passage for England ; 
and with my staff in my hand, I passed on, my eyes fixed on the 
ground, not wishing to encounter any human eye : It was with 
much difficulty, 1 attained the summit of a steep acclivity, where, 
spent and weary, I sat me down. From this lofty eminence, in 
full perspective outspread before me, was the place from which I 
had departed ; my eye eagerly ran over the whole scene. Upon a 
gentle ascent, directly opposite, embosomed in a thick grove of ash, 
sycamore, and fruit trees, appeared the lovely dwelling of my moth- 
er. Behind this eminence, still ascending, was outstretched that 
garden, in which, with great delight, 1 had so often labored ; where 
I had planted herbs, fruits and flowers, in great variety ; and where 
as my departure was in the month of June, they all flourished in 
high perfection. It was only during the preceding year, that I had 
added to my stock a large number of the best fruit trees, in the full 
expectation of reaping the reward of my labors, through many suc- 
cessive seasons. In those tall trees, the cuckoo, the thrush, and the 
blackbird built their nests ; and at. early dawn, and at closing eve, 
I have hung enraptured upon their melodious notes. My swim- 
ming eye passed from the garden to the house; there sat my weep- 
ing, my supplicating mother, at that moment, probably, uniting 
with her deserted children in sending up to heaven petitions for 
my safety, I turned to the right ; there towered the stately man- 
sion, I was bid to consider as my own ; there dwelt the matron, 
who hoped I should have been unto her as a son, and who had 
cherished me as such ; there dwelt the charming young lady, whose 
virtuous attachment might have constituted the solace of my exist- 
ence. The tear of sorrow, the sigh of disappointment, no doubt, 
bedewed their cheeks, and swelled their faithful bosoms ! And, 
oh ! I exclaimed, may the balm of peace, may the consolations of 
the Holy Spirit, be abundantly shed abroad in your hearts. 



54 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



As thus, from scene to scene, my eager eye with tearful haste 
had wandered, my heart reiterated its unutterable agonies; and as 
I considered my situation as resembling that of the father of 
mankind, when driven from the paradise, to which state of blessed- 
ness it was decreed he never was to return, I would gladly have 
laid me down and died : I would have given the world, had it been 
at my disposal, to have reinstated myself in the situation, and cir- 
cumstances, 1 had so inconsiderately relinquished ; but this was 
impossible, and this conviction — how terrible ! I wept, I sobbed. 
Despair seemed taking up its residence in my bosom. I fled from 
the scene ; again I turned ; one more look ; I wrung my hands in 
agony, and my heart spontaneously exclaimed : Dear, ever dear pa- 
rent, once more farewell ; dear, much loved sisters, brothers, and 
thou, sweet innocent, thou smiling, thoughtless, and therefore hap- 
py babe, once more farewell ; and you, dear second parents, and 
thou sister of the friend of my soul, with the beauteous cherub, 
whose infantile caresses, while pouring into my ear the interesting 
tale, were as balm to my wounded spirit — farewell, Oh ! farewell 
forever! and you, ye many kind, religious connexions, with whom 
I have ofte«n wept, and prayed, and joyed, and sorrowed, once more 
I bid you adieu ; adieu ye flowery walks, where I have spent so many 
happy hours ; ye thick embowering shades, reared by these hands, 
ye health-restoring herbs, ye sweet delicious fruits, ye fragrant 
flowers, receive my last farewell. Still I lingered — still [ gazed 
around, and yet again, another look — His past, and I am gone forev- 
er. I turned from the view, and have never since beheld those 
charming scenes. I wonder much my agitated spirits had not in- 
duced a fever ; but God preserved me, and leading my mind to the 
consideration of scenes beyond the present state, I was enabled to 
proceed, until I beheld, in perspective, the spires of the opulent ci- 
ty, which I was approaching. The opening prospect, with the ad- 
ditional sound of a fine ring of bells from Shannon steeple, a church 
standing on an eminence upon the river Lee, the bells of which are 
heard at an immense distance, gave a new tone to my mind. I had 
many friends in the city of Cork, and I endeavored to derive conso- 
lation from their unquestioned attachment. I had frequently 
preached in this city, and I had reason to suppose my labors had 
been acceptable. In the city of Cork, my paternal grandmother, 
with her daughter, my aunt Champion, and her children, still lived. 
My society would be sought, and I should again be engaged in 
preaching ; these considerations lessened the weight of affliction, 
by which I had been sorely pressed. I arrived at the mansion of 
my grandmother some time before sunset, and I was very joyfully 
received ; but when I had communicated my plan, the counte- 
nances both of j my grandmother and my aunt, decidedly evinced 
their displeasure ; they censured me with severity, and I keenly 
felt their rebukes. I assured them, I came not to solicit aid ; and, 
rising from my chair, 1 bade them formally adieu, quitting their 
presence, and their house. The eldest daughter of my aunt, a very 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



55 



beautiful young lady, and as good as beautiful, whose heart was 
formed for pity and for tenderness, followed me down stairs, and 
entreated me to continue with them ; but her well-designed inter- 
ference was ineffectual. I had been severely censured, and 1 could 
not bear it ; I could have borne it better, if it had been unmerited. 
I left my lovely cousin in tears, nor did I again see, or hear from 
any individual of the family, until one evening after I had preached 
in the Methodist Church, my grandmother advanced, took my 
hand, and requested 1 would attend her home. I confess I was 
delighted with her condescension ; for my mind had greatly suffer- 
ed from the reflection, that I had given pain to the dear and re- 
spectable mother of my deceased father. I accompanied her home, 
and we passed a happy evening together ; both my grandmother 
and my aunt, addressed me in strains the most soothing ; they 
poured iutomy lacerated mind the oil and wine of consolation ; they 
confessed themselves convinced, that the good hand of God was in 
my removal. 'You are,' sail the pious lady, 'you are, my dear 
child, under the guidance of an Omnipotent Power ; God has de- 
signed you for himself; you are a chosen instrument to give light 
to your fellow men ; you are, I perceive, ordained to turn many 
from darkness unto light, from the power of Satan, unto God, and 
the Lord will be with you. The God of your father will bless you, 
and make your way prosperous before you ; look no more, then, 
to what you have left behind, but look forward in faith, always re- 
membering, that God's works of providence are his most holy, wise, 
and powerful ; preserving and governing all his creatures, and all 
their actions. Do not, I say, reflect upon yourself; I confess, I was 
wrong in censuring you ; God's way is in the great deep, we ought 
to acquiesce in all the dispensations of our Creator. You, my dear 
sou, are as clay in his hand ; God is as the potter, who will do with 
you as seemeth good in his sight. Who can resist his will?' 
Thus did this dear lady speak peace to a mind, that had not, for a 
long season, received such strong consolation. 

I was urged, while in the city of Cork, to relinquish my purpose 
of going to England. The Methodists solicited me to repair to 
Limerick, where a preacher was much wanted ; but nothing could 
seduce my thoughts from my native island. I frequently mixed in 
company where religious disputes ran very high. The doctrine of 
election, and final perseverance were severely reprobated : but 
election, and final perseverance, were fundamentals in my creed, 
and were received by me as the doctrines of God, Yet I was aware 
that an attempt to defend principles so obnoxious s would subject me 
to the censure and ill treatment of religious enemies, an I had ex- 
perienced, that religious enemies were the most to be dreaded : yet, 
as I could not be silent, and as I dared not dissemble, I contented 
myself with observing, that 1 had been accustomed to hear my re- 
spectable father speak in favor of those doctrines. But although, in 
my public labors, I never asserted aught that could expose me to 
censure, yet I was more than suspected of Calvinism, and conse- 



56 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



quent resentments were enforced against me. My residence in the 
city of Cork was thus rendered unpleasant, and my impatience to 
embark for England was augmented. I was, however, obliged to 
continue two weeks longer, during which period I endeavored to 
live as retired as possible, avoiding controversy, and devoting my 
time to my grandmother and a few select friends. It was during 
my protracted residence in this city, that the celebrated Mr. George 
Whitefield arrived there, upon a visit. Of Mr. Whitefield I had 
heard much, and I was delighted with an opportunity of seeing, 
hearing, and conversing with so great a man. He was the first Cal- 
vinistic Methodist I had ever heard, and he became very dear to 
me: I listened with transport. The principles early inculcated up- 
on my mind were in full force, and for Mr. Whitefield I conceived 
a very strong passion. He appeared to me something more than 
human : 1 blushed, at the view of myself, as a preacher, after I had 
attended upon him ; yet 1 had the temerity to preach in pulpits 
which he had so well filled ! and I secretly resolved to enter into 
connexion with him, if I should be so happy as to meet him, after 
my arrival in London. I had many delightful opportunities in pri- 
vate circles with this gentleman ; he was a most entertaining com- 
panion. But, as Mr. Wesley marked him with a jealous eye, he 
dispatched, by way of escort, two of his preachers, in whom he par- 
ticularly confided, who diligently followed the great man from place 
to place : he was of course upon every occasion, closely watched ; 
and his facetious observations and frequent gaiety, were, by these 
spies severely censured, as descriptive of unbecoming levity. In 
fact, every art was called into action, to prevent the affections of 
the people wandering from one reformer to another; yet, while 
gentlemen in connexion with Mr. Wesley, were continually upon 
the alert against Mr. Whitefield, he himself evinced not the smallest 
inclination for opposition, or even defence; he appeared perfectly 
content with the enjoyments of the day, rather preferring a state of 
independence, to an intimate connexion with any sect or party. 
His choice, at that time, was decidedly the life of an itinerant, and 
he then evidently shrunk from the cares and embarrassments at- 
tached to the collecting, building, and repairing churches. And 
never, I believe, did any man in public life enjoy more : he was the 
admiration of the many, and an object of the warmest affection in 
those social circles in which it was his felicity to mingle. The 
pleasures of the table were highly zested by Mr.'Whitefield, and it 
was the pride of his friends to procure for him every possible luxu- 
ry. The pleasure I derived from this gentleman's preaching, from 
his society, and from the society of his friends, contributed to lessen 
the weight of melancholy which depressed my spirits on my de- 
arture from home. I recollect an evening passed with him at the 
ouse of one of Mr. Wesley's preachers, who had wedded a beauti- 
ful young lady of family and fortune, only daughter of a Mrs. , 

who possessed a very large estate, kept her chariot, her city and her 
country house, and entertained much company. Many persons 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



57 



were collected, upon this evening ; I was charmed with everything 
I saw, with everything I heard;, I had long admired the master of 
the house ; his lady I had never before seen : she was the object of 
general adulation ; her person was uncommonly elegant, and her 
face dazzlingly beautiful ; she had received a useful as Well as a 
fashionable education, and she Was mistress of all the polite accom- 
plishments. She had three lovely children, with minds as well 
cultivated as their time of life Would permit. I threw my eyes up- 
on the happy, the highly favored husband, the amiable wife, the 
fascinating children, the venerable lady, who gave being to this 
charming wife, mother, friend. I beheld the group with rapture ; 
for envy, as 1 have elsewhere observed, was never an ingredient in 
my composition, and I hung with a sort of chastened pleasure up- 
on the anecdotes furnished by Mr. Whitefield ; the whole scene 
was captivatingly entertaining, and highly interesting: I was ready 
to wish the night might endure forever. Alas ! it was but one 
night ; I never after entered that house. Happy would it have 
been for me if I had never seen it.* How mysterious are the ways 
of heaven ! this evening, upon which I was so highly gratified, was 
the remote canse of my suffering, many years afterwards, great and 
very serious inquietude. I left the house of my friend, Mr. Trin- 
bath, expecting to have seen him again and again ; I left him an 
object of envy to many ; but I never saw him more, nor did he, 
poor gentleman, long continue the object of envy to any one. 

This was the last night I spent in this city, in this country. The 
vessel in which I had engaged a passage to Bristol, was now ready 
for sailing ; I had only time, upon the morning of the ensuing day, 
to bid a hasty adieu to my grandmother, and her family, with" a few 
other friends; to receive their blessings, and to depart. I took my 
place in the vessel at the wharf, some of my friends accompanying 
me thither; I spoke to them with my eyes, with my hands ; my 
tongue refused utterance. 

The beauty of the surrounding scenes, in passing from the city 
to the cove of Cork, cannot perhaps be surpassed. A few miles 
from the city stands a fortress, then governed by a half-brother of 
my father. I beheld it with a humid eye ; but the vessel had a fair 
wind, and we passed it rapidly. I retired to the cabin ; my too re- 
tentive memory retraced the scenes I had witnessed, since first J 
reached Hibernia's hospitable shore ; they were many, and to me 
interesting ; reflection became extremely painful, yet it was impos- 
sible to avoid it; and while I was thus retrospecting, the vessel cut 
her way through the harbor ; we had reached the cove, we were 
on the point of leaving the land* I jumped upon the deck, I threw 
my eyes over the country I was leaving, which contained all that 
was dear to me, either by the ties of blood or friendship ; all, were 
drawn up in order before me ; it was another parting scene. Yet 
I cherished hope ; I might again return. Alas ! alas ! this hope was 



* See Chap. VI. for an explanation of this reference. T. W. 

6 



58 



LIFE OF REV, JOHN MURRAY. 



delusive ; it was an everlasting adieu. Dear country of guileless 
and courteous manners-, of integrity, and generous hospitality, I bid 
you adieu $ adieu ye verdant hills, ye fertile vallies, ye gurgling rills, 
which everywhere cross the path of the traveller ; ye delicious fruits, 
ye fragrant flowers, ye sylvan scenes, for contemplation made — 
adieu, perhaps forever. Here end the various hopes and fears, 
which have swelled my bosom in a country celebrated for the sa- 
lubrity of its air, the clearness of its waters, the richness of its pas- 
tures, and the hospitality of its inhabitants 5 where no poisonous rep^ 
tile could ever yet procure sustenance. 



CHAPTER HI. 

Arrival in England, and further Progress of the inexperienced 
Traveller. 

Hail, native Isle, for deeds of worth renowned, 
By Statesmen, Patriots, Poets, Heroes crowned ; 
For thee my friends, my weeping friends, I leave ; 
To thy blest arms, thy wandering son receive. 

I now began a new era of my melancholy life. Losing sight of 
land, I again retired to my cabin : alas! ' busy thought was too busy 
for my peace.' Launched upon the wide ocean, I was speeding to 
a country, my native country indeed ; but a country, in which I 
could boast neither relation, nor friend, not even a single acquaint- 
ance. I was quitting a country, in which I had both relations and 
friends, with many pleasant acquaintances ; yet this consideration did 
not much depress me ; for although my heart was pained, when I re- 
flected on those I was leaving, yet I was in raptures at the thought 
of England; I promised myself everything pleasing in England; 
yet, in ririy most visionary moments, I could not name a source, 
from which I could rationally expect establishment, or even tem- 
porary gratification. Several gentlemen were in the cabin, who took 
kind notice of me ; they asked me no questions, so I was not em- 
barrassed ; but they Contributed to render my passage agreeable, 
which-, however, was very short $ for the identical passage, which, 
when I accompanied my father^ consumed full nine weeks, was 
now performed in three days ; but, exempted from those fears, and 
that nausen, which sometimes afHict fresh-water sailors, I was rath- 
er pleased with the rapidity of our passage. We dropped anchor 
in Bristol channel ; I was charmed with an opportunity of going 
ashore at Pill, and once more greeting the good old lady, that had 
many years before, so tenderly compassionated rne, when I return- 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



59 



ed, as one from the dead, to my offended father. Alas J she was 
no more ; this was a disappointment ; hut I was in England, and 
everything I saw, swelled my throbbing bosom to rapture. I was 
determined on walking to Bristol ; it was only five miles, and through 
a most enchanting country. O ! what transport of delight I felt 
when, with the ensuing morning, I commenced my journey. The 
birds sweetly carolled, the flowers enamelled the meadows, the 
whole scene was paradisiacal. Jt was England. But where was 
I going ? I knew not. How to be employed ? I knew not ; but 
I knew I was in England, and, after feasting my eyes and ears. I 
seated myself upon a verdant bank, where the hot wells, (so much 
celebrated as the resort of invalid votaries of fashion, who come 
here to kill time, and to protract a debilitated existence by the use 
of the waters,) were in full view. Here I began seriously to re- 
flect upon my situation, and to attend to various questions, proposed 
by a certain invisible, my internal monitor, who thus introduced the 
inquiry. 1 Well, here you are, in England; what are you to do?' 
God only knows. ' Had you not better apply to Him for his direc- 
tion and protection ?' Certainly, where has my mind wandered, that 
I have not thus done before ? The emotions of my heart were at 
this moment indescribable. When I last gazed upon these scenes, 
my prudent, vigilant father was at my side, to guard me from evil ; 
now I had no guide, no counsellor, no protector ! 1 yes,' said my 
monitor, ' you have the Creator, the Father of your father, He will 
be your God, and your guide : He will be your protector, your 
counsellor, your preserver ; He will provide for' you, and, if you ap- 
ply to Him, He will make your way plain before you.' My hean, 
softened and cheered by these consoling suggestions, instantly be- 
gan its supplications ; there I prayed, and tfjere I remembered Ja- 
cob upon the field of Padan-aram ; I commended myself to the care 
of the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, and I added to these 
names, the name of my own father. Thus, by unbosoming myself 
to the Author of my existence, was my spirit greatly refreshed. It 
is very true I wept, freely wept, but my tears were tears of luxury; 
and I went on my way rejoicing, in a hope which, gave me, as it 
were, to tread air. I reached Bristol at early dinner : I entered a 
tavern, inquiring if I could be furnished with a dinner. They saw 
J was a stranger, and from Ireland. The master of the inn was 
from the same country ; he soon discovered I was a Methodist, and 
being acquainted with those religionists, he invited them to visit 
me, and I was consequently introduced to many of the Methodists 
in that city. It may be thought strange, that, as I had been so much 
engaged among the Methodists in Ireland, being one of their ap- 
proved preachers, I did not take the steps necessary to introduce 
me among that class of people in England. Ejut, besides the jeal- 
ousy which had taken place in the minds of my religious brethren,, 
on account of my attachment to the doctrine of election, which 
made me resolve to quit Mr. Wesley's connexion, and unite my- 
self with the adherents of Mr. VYhitefield, I wished for liberty tq s^g\ 



60 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



myself, without restraint. But on being introduced, I was soon 
engaged ; attended their meetings, and private societies, and was 
admired, and caressed, and consequently tarried longer than 1 had 
proposed, deriving, from every social interview, abundant consola- 
tion. Upon the evening previous to niy departure from Bristol, I 
was urged to visit a society a few miles from the city ; it was a 
pleasant walk ; several of both sexes were assembled ; they were 
neat in person, and correct in manners, and they were all English. 
I was charmed, and, being in good spirits, I was thought excellent 
company; I was then a stranger. They Were highly pleased ; I 
was requested to pray ; I did so, and we mingled our tears. I was 
solicited to continue among this people, but my wishes all pointed 
to Loudon — and to London I must go. I parted with my new ac- 
quaintance with regret, for I was as much pleased with them, as 
they appeared to be with me. Being prevailed upon to tarry din- 
ner the next day, I did not leave Bristol until the afternoon. I then 
departed alone, determining to proceed as far as Bath, and take the 
stage for London, upon theensuing morning. As I passed over one 
of the most charming roads in England, and alone, I had not only 
time for reflection, but my reflections were pensively pleasing : I 
was advancing towards the metropolis ; hitherto 1 had experienced 
the goodness of God, and I indulged the most sanguine hopes. My 
heart was greatly elated ; I beheld the surrounding scenes with rap- 
ture ; I was not wearied by my walk ; it was only sixteen milea 
from Bristol to Bath ; the fields stood thick with corn, the valleys, 
burdened with an uncommon load of hay, seemed to laugh and 
sing, and the birds, in iheir variety, were, as if hymning the praises 
of their Creator, while the setting sun heightened the grandeur, and 
gave the finishing touches to the scene. My feelings were indeed 
highly wrought. I proceeded near the margin of a beautiful river ; 
two hay-makers were returning from their toil ; I addressed them, 
and, in my accustomed manner, I expressed my delight, and my 
gratitude. 'These,' said I, in a strain of rapture, 'these are thy 
glorious works, Parent of good ; Almighty Father, thine this univer- 
sal frame ; these wondrous fair — surpassing wonder far-r-thyself how 
wondrous then!' Tears gushed in my eyes, as I thus expressed 
the transport of my soul. The men were astonished, yet they 
seemed pleased ; I asked the name of the river ? They replied, 
' the Avon, sir.' Then, said I, it flows through the native place of 
Shakspeare. ' Shakspeare, who is he V A writer, I replied : won- 
dering at myself for mentioning his name ; but I thought of Shaks- 
peare, and J have ever been accustomed to think loud ; the thought 
was an addition to my pleasures, and, from the abundance of tho 
heart, the mouth speaketh. My companions could not fail of dis- 
covering, that I came from Ireland, yet they cast no reflections up- 
on me, as is the custom with low people, upon these occasions; 
they were rather disposed to treat me kindly. 'I fancy,' said one 
of them, ' you are a Methodist.' I am, said 1— I do not deny it. 
! Then niy Bess will be glad to see th.ee, I 'U warrant me ; wool 



LIFE QP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



thee come along with me ? Thee may go farther, and fare worse, 
I can tell thee that.' 'Ay, ay,' said the other, 'thee had best go 
with my neighbor — I '11 warrant thee good cheer.' I thanked this 
fcind mau, and my heart swelled with gratitude to that Being, in 
whose hands are the hearts of all his creatures, for thus meeting me on 
my entrance into this strange city, with loving-kindness, and tender 
mercy. We walked, on together, mutually delighted ; l,with eve- 
ry thing I saw, and my companions with me, for my expressed sat- 
isfaction, We soon stopped at the door of a very neat house. 
This cannot, said my heart, be the dwelling of a hay-maker; it was, 
however, and opening the door, he said s 'Here, Bess, I have 
brought thee home a young Methodist ; I know thee wilt lie glad 
to see him.' I was then, by this rough, good-hearted man, present- 
ed to his wife: ' Thou must find out his name thyself.' I immedi- 
ately told her my name, when, in a friendly manner, she requested 
me to be seated. She was a very different character from her hus- 
band ; her manners were even polished i she entered into friendly 
conversation with me, and we derived much satisfaction therefrom, 
when her husband entering, inquired in his rough manner, 'What 
the plague, Bess, hast got no supper for thy guest ?' This was 
a matter to which we had neither of us recurred, The good man, 
however, was speedily obeyed, and an elegant repast was forthwith 
placed upon the table, of which I partook with appetite. We af- 
terwards sang one of the Methodist hymns, and we united in sol- 
emn prayer; while my heart acknowledged all the fervor of devo- 
tion, even my host himself seemed affected and pleased, declaring 
he esteemed himself fortunate in meeting me. I was introduced 
to a handsome lodging room, and a good bed, hut the fulness of my 
grateful heart would not, for some time, allow me to close my 
eyes; at length I sunk into the most refreshing slumbers, and I 
arose the next morning greatly exhilarated. I was received by my 
hospitable host, and hostess, with every mark of satisfaction ; we 
breakfasted together, sang a hymn, and addressed the throne of 
grace, when the good man went forth to the labors of the field, re- 
questing that I would not think of leaving them. In the course of 
the morning, the good lady informed me, that they had recently 
settled in Bath, a Mr. Tucker, w ho had been a preacher in Ireland. 
My heart leaped at this intelligence; of all the preachers, with 
whom I had ever associated, this man possessed the greatest share 
of my affection. His tender, innocent, child-like disposition, not 
only endeared him to me, but to all who were acquainted with his 
worth. My hostess was charmed to learn, that I was known to 
Mr. Tucker: I solicited her to direct me to his residence, but when 
she informed me, that, by the death of his father, he had recently 
come into possession of 30,000 pounds sterling, I became apprehen- 
sive I should not be recognized. But I had occasion to reproach 
myself for suspicions, for no sooner was I conducted to his dwell- 
ing, than he caught me in his arms, and expressed the highest sat- 
isfaction. Upon introducing me to his lady, he said : ' My dear,, 



62 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



this young man is the eldest son of one of the best men I ever knew. 
No man ever possessed a larger share of my venerating affection : 
I Jove this young person as his son, and I love him for himself; 
and when you, my dear, know him as I do, the goodness of your 
own heart will compel you to love him as I do.' How highly 
gratifying ail this to me, at such a time, in such a place, and in the 
presence of the lady, whose guest I was! but I must be her guest 
no longer ; this warm-hearted friend of my father, and of myself, 
would not allow me to leave his house nor the city for a long sea- 
son ; indeed, it was greatly against his will, that I left Bath when I 
did. I promised 1 would call every day upon my worthy host and 
hostess, which promise I punctually performed. Mr. Tucker in- 
sisted upon my giving them a discourse in the church in which he 
officiated ; for, although possessed of an independent fortune, he 
yet continued to preach to the people. On Sunday, then, I preach- 
ed in the city of Bath, to great acceptation. My host and hostess 
(the hospitable hay-maker and wife) were present, and felicitated 
themselves that they had introduced a man, so much approved. 

My reverend friend conducted me from place to place, showing 
me every thing curious in that opulent resort of the nobility, It 
was to this faithful friend that I communicated, in confidence, the 
difficulties under which I labored, respecting my religious princi- 
ples. I observed to him, that I could not, with a good conscience, 
reprobate doctrines, which, as I firmly believed originated with 
God, nor advocate sentiments diametrically opposite to what I con- 
sidered as truth. On this account I could not cordially unite with 
Mr. Wesley, or his preachers. Mr. Tucker saw the force of my ob- 
jections ; nay, he felt them too, for he was at that instant nearly in 
the same predicament with myself. Yet we could not hit upon an 
expedient to continue in the connexion, and preserve our integrity. 
My anxieiy, however, to reach the capital compelled me to press 
forward ; and my kind friend, convinced I was not to be prevailed 
upon further to delay my departure, engaged a place in the coach 
for me, discharging all the aitendant expenses, and placing, besides 
a handsome gratuity in my pocket. Of my first host and hostess I 
took a friendly leave ; gratitude has stamped their images upon my 
bosom ; I left them, and my other kind friends, in tears ; we com- 
mended each other to the kind God, who, in his own way, careth 
for us. I have since been greatly astonished ; indeed 1 was at the 
time surprised, at my thus hastening to quit a place, where I was 
furnished with every thing my heart ought to have desired, when 
the prospect before me was at least uncertain ; but I have been, 
all my days, a mystery to myself; nor is this mystery yet unravel- 
led. I retired this night to bed, but did not close my eyes 
until near the dawn of day ; yet my reflections upon my pil- 
low were charming; I clearly saw the good hand of God in 
all my movements ; I was enchauted with every thing I had 
seen, and with the prospect of what I had still to see. O ! 
how sweet, in early life, are those sensations, which are the 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



63 



offspring of vigorous hope ; how great are the joys of expectationi 
No one ever derived more high-wrought pleasures from hope, than 
myself. I quitted my bed just at the dawn of day, after a refresh- 
ing slumber; I had apprized the people at the stage-house, the 
evening before, that I should walk on, and let the stage overtake 
me ; this I did, and a most delightful walk I had. 1 met the Auro- 
ra, the rising sun, the waking songsters of the hedges, the lowing 
tenants of the mead, the lusty laborer, with his scythe, preparing 
to cut down the bending burden of the flowery meadow. The in- 
creasing beauty of the surrounding scenes, the fragrant scent of the 
new-mowed hay, all, all, were truly delightful ; and thus enchant- 
ed, with spirits light as air, I passed on, till I reached the Devizes, 
nineteen miles from Bath, where, after I had breakfasted, the coach 
overtook me, in which I was soon seated, finding a ride, after walk- 
ing, more abundantly refreshing ; we rolled over the finest road in 
the world, with such rapidity, that we reached London before sun- 
set. How much was my heart elated, as I passed over this charm- 
ing country ; how did it palpitate with pleasure, as I advanced to- 
ward the metropolis ; yet still I had no fixed plan, nor knew I 
what I should do, or whither repair True, I had some letters to 
deliver, but, in the hurry of my spirits, I had forgotten them ; and 
on being set down at the stage house in London, I left my trunk 
without a single line of intimation to whom it belonged, and wan- 
dered about the city, feasting my eyes with the variety which it 
presented, 'till twilight grey had, in her sober livery, all things 
clad,' when I began to turn my thoughts towards a shelter for the 
night. I entered a tavern, requesting a supper, and a lodging, both 
of which were readily granted. I sat pensive ; I was weary, my 
spirits sunk, I ate little, and, retiring to my chamber, after securing 
the door, I fell on my knees, beseeching the Father of mercies to 
have compassion upon me. I wept, wished myself at home, and 
my heart seemed to die within me, at the consideration that I could 
not return, without fulfilling the predictions of my matron friend : 
' You will return,' said she, and, perhaps find this door shut against 
you.' Never, said I, never; I will die first. This was the most 
melancholy night, I had passed, since I left the dwelling of my 
mother. I arose in the morning unrefreshed ; I inquired where 
the stage put up ; I had forgotten ; I told my host, I had left my 
trunk at the stage-house. He soon found the place, but he despair- 
ed of ever obtaining my trunk ; I recovered it, however, and a 
porter took it to my lodgings, there I believed it safe, although I 
knew nothing of the people. I recollected where I had lived, when 
with my father in this city ; thither I repaired ; but although there 
were remaining individuals who remembered him, no one recog- 
nized me. I was however kindly noticed, for his sake, and soon 
introduced to many, by whom I was much caressed. From this I 
reaped no benefit ; a tew of my Methodist friends, whom I had 
known in Ireland, visited me, but, seeing me in company which 
they did not approve, they stood aloof from me. In the judgment 



64 



LIFE OF REV\ JOHN MURRAY. 



of Mr Wesley, and bis adherents, my principles were against me. 
They did not believe any man could be pious, who believed the 
doctrine of predestination. I remember, some time after the death 
of my father, sitting with Mr. Wesley in the house of my mother 
and conversing on this truly interesting subject ; I ventured to re- 
mark, that there were some good men, who hud given their suf- 
frage in favor of the doctrine of election, and I produced my fa- 
ther, as an instance, when, laying his hand upon my shoulder, with 
great earnestness, he said : ' My dear lad, believe me, there never 
was a man in this world, who believed the doctrine of Calvin, but 
the language of his heart was, ' I may live as I list.' It was, as I 
have before observed, generally believed, that I inherited the prin- 
ciples of my father. The Methodists in London were afraid of me, 
and I was afraid of them ; we therefore, as if by mutual consent, 
avoided each other ; my wish to attach myself to Mr. Whitefield 
was still paramount in my bosom, but Mr. Whitefield was not at 
home, and it was unfortunate for me that he was not. Every day 
I was more and more distinguished ; but it was by those, whose 
neglect of me would have been a mercy : by their nominal kindness 
I was made to taste of pleasures, to which I had before been a 
stranger, and those pleasures were eagerly zested. I became what 
is called very good company, and I resolved to see, and become 
acquainted with life ; yet I determined, my knowledge of the town, 
and its pleasures, should not affect my standing in the religious 
world. But I was miserably deceived ; gradually, my former hab- 
its seemed to fade from my recollection. To my new connexions 
I gave, and received from them, what I then believed pleasure,, 
without alloy. Of music, and dancing, [ was very fond, and I de-. 
lighted in convivial parties ; Vauxhall, the playhouses, were charm- 
ing ; I had never known life before. It is true, my secret Mentor 
sometimes embittered my enjoyments ; the precepts, the example 
of my father stared me in the face ; the secret sigh of my bosom 
arose, as I mournfully reflected on what I had lost. But I had not 
sufficient resolution to retrace my steps; indeed I had little leisure. 
I was in a perpetual round of company ; I was intoxicated with 
pleasure ; I was invited into one soeiet)', and another, until there 
was hardly a society in London, of which I was not a member. 

How long this life of dissipation would have lasted, had not my 
resources failed, I know not. I occasionally encountered one and 
another of my religious connexions, who seriously expostulated 
with me ; but I generally extorted from them a laugh, which ulti- 
mately induced them to shun me. I had an interview with Mr. 
Barnstable, a preacher in Mr. Wesley's connexion, and questioning 
him respecting many whom 1 had known, he informed me that Mr. 
Trinbath, at whose house I had passed so delightful an evening 
with Mr. Whitefield, in the city of Cork, was no more I His beau- 
tiful wife had quitted her husband, her children, and her mother, 
and accompanied a private soldier to America!!!.* Her doating 



* See Chap. VI. T. W 



UFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



65 



husband, thus cruelly deceived, lost first his reason, and afterwards, 
his life. Mr. Barnstable inquired what had become of me so long ; 
and, after severely admonishing me, he pronounced upon me an 
anathema, and quitted me. It will be supposed 1 was not much 
pleased with him, and assuredly, I was at variance with myself ; 
and above all, I was grievously afflicted for the misfortunes and 
death of the once happy Trinbath. It has often been a matter of 
astonishment to me, how, after such a religious education as I had 
received ; after really, vitally entering into the spirit of the life to 
which I was from infancy habituated ; after feelingly bearing my 
public testimony against the follies and the dissipation of the many, 
I should so entirely renounce a life of serious piety, and embrace a 
life of frolic, a life of whim ! It is also wonderful, that thus chang- 
ed, I proceeded no further; that I was guilty of no flagrant vices; 
that I was drawn into no fatal snares. Many were the devices em- 
ployed to entangle trie ; which devices I never deliberately sought 
to avoid. Doubtless I was upheld by the good hand of God ; for 
which sustaining power my full soul offers its grateful orisons. 

I pursued this inconsiderate, destructive course upwards of a 
year, never permanently reflecting where I was, or how I should 
terminate my career. My money was nearly exhausted ; but this 
was beneath my consideration : and, as I have said, serious reflec- 
tion was arrested by large circles of friends successively engaging 
me, either abroad or at home, in town or in the country. Thus 
did my life exhibit a constant tissue of folly and indiscretion. But 
the time of my emancipation drew near; a demand, which I had 
barely sufficient to answer, was made upon me by my tailor : I 
started, and stood for some time motionless. The money, which I 
believed would never be expended, was already gone. I saw no 
method of recruiting my finances, and I stood appalled, when, at 
this distressing moment a gay companion broke in upon me; he 
was on his way to the club : there ^vas to be grand doings : John 
Wilkes, esquire, was that night to become a member. I instantly 
forgot everything of a gloomy nature, and went off as light as a 
feathered inhabitant of the air. I never was fond of the pleasures 
of the bottle ; of social pleasures, no one more so : and that I might 
enjoy society with an unbroken zest, I have frequently thrown the 
wine under the table, rejoicing that I thus preserved my reason. 

This period of my life had so much of variety, and yet so much 
of sameness, that a picture of a week would be nearly a complete 
exhibition of all my deviations. Suffice it to say, that I plunged in- 
to the vortex of pleasure, greedily grasping at enjoyments, which 
both my habits and my circumstances should have taught me to 
shun. Upon this subject I do not love to dwell. If possible, I 
would erase it from my recollection : and yet I derive abundant 
satisfaction from the manifestation of Divine Goodness, so striking- 
ly exemplified through the whole of my wanderings, in preserving 
me, by the strong arm of the Almighty, from numerous evils to 
whjph, in the society I frequented, and in the city where I resided, 



06 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



1 was hourly exposed. But, as I said, necessity, imperious neces- 
sity compelled me to pause; and it was, in truth, a blessed neces- 
sity. Had I been inclined to forget that my whole stock was ex- 
pended, the frequent calls made upon me for monies which 1 could 
not pay, would have constituted a uniform and impressive memen- 
to. My embarrassments were soon rumored abroad ; and although 
I had many friends, who appeared to regard money as little as my- 
self, who, declaring they could not exist without me, insisted upon, 
my being of their parties, yet a consciousness of dependence ren- 
dered me wretched, while indirect remarks, thrown out by some 
individuals, served to increase my wretchedness. Easter holydays 
are, in England, days of conviviality. Parties of pleasure were eve- 
rywhere forming. My connexions were hastening to my favorite 
retreat, Richmond : inclination led me to join them : but they ei- 
ther were not, or I suspected they were wot, as usual, warm in their 
solicitations, and I declined a less importunate invitation. I, how- 
ever, took a solitary walk, and I met reflection on the way. I had 
in the world but one half-penny, and a mendicant, asking alms, 
crossed my path ; I gave him my half- penny, and walked on, till, 
passing out of the city, T advanced into the fields. I began to feel 
exhausted ; and, under the wide spreading shade of a tree, I sat mo 
down. I continued, for some time, in a state of fixed despair, re- 
gardless of life and everything which it had to bestow. The eye 
of retrospection ran over past scenes: I remembered my father's 
house, and the plenty which, particularly at this season, reigned 
there. This was nearly the anniversary of his death ; the mournful 
scene passed in review before me ; his paternal advice, his paternal 
prayers flashed upon my soul ; the eye of my mind dwelt upon the 
family I had deserted. Oh ! could they now behold me ! Would 
they not be gratified ? I hoped they would. Their pity would 
have pained me most exquisitely. Still my emotions were not of aa 
ameliorating description : my heart was indurated, and, had I pos-: 
sessed the means, I should have proceeded in the path of destruc- 
tion. At length I seemed awakened to a full sense of the horrors 
of my situation ; my heart throbbed with anguish as I spontane- 
ously exclaimed: Am I the son of such a man, the son of such pa- 
rents ? am I that pious youth so much, and by so many admired ? 
am I the preacher, who at so early a period preached to others, 
drawing tears from the eyes of those who heard me? And is it 
thus my journey to England terminates ? am 1 now alone and un- 
friended, without an extricating hand to save me? Whither, ah! 
whither shall I go, and what step is now to be taken ? At this mo- 
ment the voice of consolation vibrated upon my mental ear: 'Imi- 
tate the prodigal of old, Arise, and go unto your Father ; say, I 
have sinned against heaven and in thy sight ; 1 am no longer wor- 
thy to be called thy son : but beseech Him, nevertheless, to receive 
you into his service.' This counsel, proceeding from a quarter 
irom which I had not for a long season heard, deeply affected me, 
and bitterly did I weep t in the dread of that refusal, which, should 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



67 



I venture to follow the guidance of the monitor within, I was, alas ! 
but too certain of receiving. A thousand thoughts, like a swarm of 
insects, huzzed around me$ but no thought gave me peace. How 
exquisite was the torture, winch at this moment I suffered. But 
the approach of evening roused me to a conviction of the necessity 
of moving: but whither should I go? that was the question. * Sup- 
pose,' said my invisible monitor, 4 you go to the tabernacle? ' and, 
bursting into a flood of tears, I said, Yes, I will present myself 
among the multitude— yes, I will go; but howshall I meet the eye 
of any individual who has formerly known me ? how dare I stand 
among the worshippers of that God whom I have so grossly offend- 
ed? Yet I will go$ and, with slow and mournful steps, I walked 
forward. The congregation had assembled. I entered, taking my 
stand under the galley. I dared not raise my eyes ) they were 
bathed in tears. Mr. Whitefieid^ in his usual energetic manner, 
addressed his audience ; but no sound of consolation reached me. 
At last he said : 'But there may be, in Some corner of this house, a 
poor, desponding, despairing soul, who, having siuned, greatly sin- 
ned against God and against himself, may be afraid to lift toward 
Heaven his guilty eye ; he may, at this moment, be suffering the 
dreadful consequences of his wandering from the sources of true 
happiness ; and possibly he may apprehend he shall never be per- 
mitted to return ! If there be any one of this description present, 
I have to inform such individual that God is still his loving Father ; 
that He says, Return unto me, my poor backsliding child, and I will 
heal your baekslidings and love you freely. What message shall I 
return my Master from you, my poor, afflicted, wandering, weep- 
ing brother? shall I say, you are suitably penetrated by his gracious 
invitation, and that you would come with weeping and supplica- 
tion ; thai you would fly with gratitude and prostrate yourself be- 
fore Him, were you not so much injured by your wanderings; that 
you feel you are not able, and that you should blush to ask his assist- 
ance? Is this your message? poor, poor soul! never fear, your 
gracious Father will shortly send you every needful aid.' All this 
was said to me ; at least, to my wondering spirit^ it thus appeared ; 
and I seemed as if expiring, amid the mingling emotions of regret, 
apprehension, and hope. 

I left the tabernacle under these potent impressions ; and, crossing 
Moorfields, I was overtaken by one of my old religious connexions, 
who, regarding me with wonder, said, 4 Am I so happy as to see 
you, one of the many who were at the tabernacle this evening?' 
My reply was indicative of the sorrow of my heart. He proceeded 
to make many remarks, until, in the moment of separation, he said, 
* Well, my friend, perhaps, you will go, from hence, into company 
where you will forget all that you have this evening heard.' My 
heart was very full ; and from its abundance I said, No, never will 
I again mingle in circles calculated to efface impressions, which I 
will cherish to the latest hour of my existence. Let these tears, 
these fast-faliing tears, evince my sincerity. My friend rejoiced in 



68 



LIFE OP RET. JOHN MURRAY. 



the prospect of my returning to the path, from which I had wan- 
dered; but he rejoiced with fear and trembling. He knew my 
connexions were numerous, and that my vivacity rendered me the 
life of those convivial circles, where I had so long figured* But 
the grace of God upheld me, and never, from that moment, did I 
unite with those associates, from which I was at first separated by 
necessity. 

I was now an insulated being. I carefully avoided my former 
companions, and my religious connexions avoided me 5 thus I had 
now abundant leisure for reflection. Some time elapsed, before 
the change, which had taken place, reac hed the extremity of those 
circles, in which I had moved. Many who heard, lent no credence 
to a report, which they believed without foundation. The greater 
number of those laughter-loving beings, who had attached them- 
selves to me, never having imbibed any religious sentiments, had 
not learned the habits of my former life. Many individuals called 
upon me as usual, and found me a different man from him whom 
they had been accustomed to see. A few suspecting the cause, 
sought to relieve my mind,-by warm and liberal assurances of never- 
failing friendship ; and they generously tendered the unlimited use 
of their purses! I made my acknowledgments; but assured them, 
the whole world, as a bribe, would be insufficient to lead me again 
into paths of folly. I was not, I said, unhappy because I no longer 
possessed ability to run the career of error, certainly not ; my infeli- 
city originated, from the consideration, that I had ever receded from 
the paths of peace. Some resented my remarks as a tacit insult 
upon themselves; others ridiculed me, and pronounced me under 
the influence of a strong delirium ; and two or three, who still lov- 
ed me too well to separate themselves from me, were, for a time, 
induced to reflect seriously upon their own situation : but these also, 
shortly disappeared ; and of the numerous triflers, with whom I had 
so many months fluttered, not a single loiterer remained ; and most 
devoutly did I render thanks to Almighty God, for extricating me 
from such associates. I boarded in the house of a very lively, vi- 
vacious man 5 indeed, his whole family might have been denomi- 
nated sons and daughters of mirth. This fact had been their prin- 
cipal recommendation to me, but it now added to the burden of 
my mind. I made inquiry after another lodging, but, on contem- 
plating a removal, difficulties, to which I had not before recurred, 
stared me in the face. I was considerably in arrears to ray host, 
and, as I must depart in a different state of mind, from that which 
I was in, when I became his lodger, and which had impressed him 
in my favor, I could not expect he would be very kindly disposed 
toward me. I was indebted to ethers, and my distresses seemed 
hourly to accumulate. Both present and future support were alike 
beyond my reach, and it appeared to me, I had attained the climax 
of misery. I closed my door, I prostrated myself before the God 
who had created me ; again my sad, my sorrowing heart, revisited 
the home I had abandoned ; stripped of its allurements, my mad 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



69 



passions for travelling appeared in its native deformity ; agcnizinsr 
dread overtook me, and my terrified imagination pointed out ana 
anticipated a thousand horrors. Many devices were suggested to 
my forlorn mind, and death itself was presented as my last resort. 
But starting from an idea so impious, Let me, 1 exclaimed, at least 
avoid plunging into irremediable perdition. Thus 1 spent the day, 
•and in the evening I attended the tabernacle. I considered myself, 
while there, as the most destitute individual in the whole assembly. 
I generally occupied a remote corner, my aims were folded, my 
eyes cast down, and my tears flowing ; indeed, my eyes were sel- 
dom dry, and my heart was always lull ; for, at this period of my 
life, I rarely tasted any thing like consolation. Coming out of the 
tabernacle, one evening, a serious young man thus accosted me : 
' Cheer up, thou weeping, sorrowing soul — be of good cheer, thy 
God will save thee.' I caught his hand ; God bless you, my dear 
sir, whoever you are ! but you do not know to whom you are speak- 
ing. 4 Oh yes, I am speaking to a sinner, like myself.' No, no, I 
returned, the wide world does not contain so great a sinner, ass 
myself; for, in the face of an education, calculated to eradicate 
every evil propensity ; and of precepts, and examples, drawn from 
our most holy religion, which ought to have rendered me a uniform 
servant of the Most High 5 1 have mingled in circles, consisting of 
the idle, the dissipated, and the profane ; 1 have run the career cl 
folly, and the anguish of my soul is a consequence of my manifold 
offences. The kind?hearted young man, strove to pour into my 
wounds the oil and wine of consolation. We walked together, 
quite through Moorfiekls ; at his request, I promised to meet him at 
the tabernacle the ensuing evening, and I was greatly impatient for 
the appointed time. Passing Moorfields, agreeably to my engage- 
ments, I beheld a large congregation assembled to hear one of Mr. 
Wesley's preachers : I tarried until I saw the preacher mount the 
stage, but what where my emotions, when 1 recognised him of 
whom I was so fond, in the house of Mr. Little, and who first intro- 
duced me as a public speaker. J hastily withdrew frcm the place, 
terrified, lest his eye should meet mine ; but my soul was tortured 
by the comparison of what I was, when 1 first saw him, with my 
present situation. I was this evening much affected ; indeed, it wag 
impossible for any child of sorrow to attend upon Mr. Whitefield, 
without feelings of the most impressive nature. I looked around 
for my companion of the past evening, but I saw him not ; and I 
was pained by the disappointment. On my departing from the tab- 
ernacle, however, he again took my hand, assuring me. he was glad 
to see me, and repeating a verse of a hymn : 'We shall not always 
make our moan,' &c. which hymn, 1 Lad often sang, and of which 
I was very fond. I melted into tears ; this man appeared to me as 
an angel of God, and most devoutly did I bless the Father of my 
spirit, lor sending me such a comforter, I was in haste to unbesem 
mysell to him, to make him acquainted with the extent of my er- 
rors ; but this was a subject, upon which he did not seem in haste 



70 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



to hear me. He, however, urged me to draw consolation from the 
promises of our God, which he pronounced aftyea, and amen, in the 
Redeemer : He also expressed a wish to meet me, at the table of 
the Lord, upon the following Sunday ; for this, my own heart ar- 
dently panted, and I engaged, if possible, to obtain a ticket of ad- 
mittance. My concern for rny very reprehensible aberrations, as 
they affected my spiritual interest, so completely occupied my mind 
that I had little leisure for reflection upon my pecuniary embar- 
rassments, yet my chcu instances were truly deplorable. I was in 
debt, without the means of making payment, nor had I any pros- 
pect of future support. 1 disdained to ask charity, and the business, 
of which I obtained a superficial knowledge in Ireland, was not en- 
couraged in London. The friend, whom I first saw at the taberna- 
cle, had continued a vigilant observer of my conduct; he had fre- 
quently visited me, and my eyes convinced him I was no longer 
the gay, inconsiderate wanderer, but truly a man of sorrow. Com- 
passionating my sufferings, he invited me to his pleasant home, 
and, in a voice of friendship, requested I would pour into his bosom 
all my griefs. I did so, and his resolution was instantly taken. To 
my great consolation, he engaged to procure me, immediately an- 
other lodging, to make my present landlord easy, and to procure 
for me, if 1 was willing, the means of future support ; and this, 
without rendering me dependent, except upon my own regular ef- 
forts, and the Being who had called me into existence. Let the 
feeling heart judge of the indescribable transports w hich this con- 
versation originated in my soul. Gratitude swelled in my bosom; 
I experienced all its sweet enthusiasm ; and hardly could I control 
my impatience for the execution of a plan in every view so desira- 
ble. The lodging was immediately obtained ; it was at the house 
of an old lady, in Bishopgate's street, where was appropriated sole- 
ly to my use, a neat and well-furnished apartment. 

The succeeding morning, this benevolent gentleman attended me 
to my late lodging, when inquiring the amount of my debt, I was 
answered, 'Not a penny.' I stood amazed. 'No,' said my good- 
natured host, ' not a penny. But pray what is the matter, where 
have you been, where are you going ? O ! dear, O ! dear, these 
abominable Methodists have spoiled as clever a fellow, as ever broke 
bread ; I suppose you think we are not good enough for you, and 
so you wish to leave us.' I was greatly affected. Excuse me, sir ; I 
do not believe myself a whit better than you ; but, sir, I am afraid of 
myself. 'Ah ! you have no occasion : I am sorry you are going, 
upon my soul 1 am. You ought to stay and convert me.' Ah ! 
sir, it is God, who must convert both you and me. We shed tears at 
parting ; but our tears flowed from a different source. He wept, 
that he should no more be amused with the whim and frolic of a 
gay young man ; I, that I had ever sojourned in his house. I was, 
however, suitably impressed by his kindness, although our inter- 
course from this moment entirely ceased. The following week, I 
obtained a situation, as one of the aids to an inspector ot a broad- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



71 



cloth manufactory; I was glad to obtain employment at any rate. 
Yet it is a fact, I was never designed for a man of business. Nor 
was I fully satisfied with my associates ; they were not in my way, 
and they, therefore, made me a subject of ridicule ; this, to weak 
minds, is perhaps a species of persecution, of all others the most dif- 
ficult to endure. I certainly suffered much from it ; but, if I could 
obtain no satisfaction With them, I had the more, whenever I left them, 
which was upon the eveniug of every day, and the whole of Sun- 
day. I was delighted by the consideration, that I was living by 
my own exertions, and in a way to discharge debts which were a 
heavy burden upon my mind. I lived frugally, retrenching every 
superfluity, and uniformly denying myself all, but the absolute ne- 
cessaries of life ; and I had very soon the felicity of knowing that 
I had no longer a creditor. This complete exoneration was follow- 
ed by a newly revived and ecstatic hope, of being again admitted 
to my Father's house, from which, I once feared, I was eternally 
excluded: And I deemed myself happy, beyond expression happy, 
upon comparing myself with those, among whom I was compelled to 
live ; who were posting, without concern, in what I deemed the road 
to ruin, from which I had, by divine favor, been mercifully drawn; 
my bosom swelled with the most delightful sensations, while I fre- 
quently exclaimed, Lord, why me ? Why take me, and leave these 
poor, unfortunate beings to perish in a state of sin and misery ? 
But such was the sovereign will and pleasure of my God ; he would 
have mercy, on whom he would have mercy, and whom he would 
he hardened. Sometimes, indeed, my soul was sick with doubt 
and apprehension. When engaged in the work of self-examina- 
tion, one evil propensity after another, which I had believed dead, 
seemed to revive in my bosom : I feared that my faith was all fan- 
cy ; and that the hope which I encouraged, was the hope of the 
hypocrite, which would be as the giving up of the ghost. Upon 
these occasions, I experienced unutterable anguish, and my days 
and nights were, with very little intermission, devoted to sorrow. 
The distress, 1 so evidently suffered, endeared me to my religious 
connexions ; every one of whom endeavored to administer conso- 
lation, encouraging me to cherish hope, from the consideration of 
ray despair ! My life was now more active than it had ever been, 
and my connexions more numerous. I was much occupied by 
business, yet my hours of devotion were sacred ; I rose at four 
o'clock, in summer and winter. My meals consumed but a small 
portion of time. The moments, thus passed by others, were, by 
me, devoted to private prayer. My evenings were passed at the 
tabernacle, and when Mr. Whitefield preached, my soul was trans- 
ported. I returned home exceedingly refreshed, and prostrating 
myself at the footstool of my Maker, I acknowledged with gratitude 
the tender mercies of my Redeemer, who had graciously separated 
me from those, who were murdering their time, and their precious 
souls ; and my thanksgivings were reiterated to that God, who had 
mercifuily rescued me from enormities so prodigious. Thus rolled 



72 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



on the week, until Sunday ; to me, indeed, a holy day, and one to* 
which I looked forward with the most delightful anticipations. 
Upon this morning, I arose even earlier than usual; attending ei- 
ther at the tahernacle, or at the chapel, in Tottenham-court, at 
which places the communion was alternately given, every Sunday 
morning. Great numhers attended upon these occasions, who 
were not regular tabernacle worshippers ; obtaining a ticket of ad- 
mittance, they took their seats. It appeared to me, like a preliba- 
tion of heaven. The Elect of God, from every denomination, as- 
sembled round the table of the Lord ; a word of consolation was 
always given, and an evangelical hymn most delightfully sung. 
Thesa Sunday mornings were, indeed, golden opportunities; my 
doubts were generally removed, and I came home in raptures. It 
was in such a peacefully religious frame of mind as this, that I 
was passing from the tabernacle, on a fine summer's morning, de- 
riving high satisfaction from the consideration, that I loved the 
brethren. I know, said I, internally, that I have passed from death 
unto life, because I love the brethren. It is true, I felt a very strong 
affection for those, with whom I had communed in the tabernacle; 
but passing over Moorfields, I saw a crowd of people, collected 
under the shade of a large tree. I inquired of a passenger, what 
occasioned the assembling of such a multitude ; and I was inform- 
ed, one of James Relly's preachers was disseminating his damnable 
doctrines to the infatuated people J My soul kindled with indigna- 
tion ; and, from the abundance of an heart, overflowing with re- 
ligious zeal, I could not forbear exclaiming: .Merciful God ! How 
is it, that Thou wiit suffer this Demon thus to proceed ? are not 
mankind naturally bad enough, but must these wretches be suffer- 
ed to give publicity to tenets so pernicious, so destructive ? thus, in 
the name of God, doing the work of the Devil. At this period, I 
should have considered myself highly favored, to have been made 
an instrument, in the hand of God, for taking the life of a man 
whom I had never beard, nor even seeu ; and, in destroying him, 
I should have nothing doubted, that I had rendered essential ser- 
vice both to the Creator and the created. I did not then know 
bow much I was leavened with the leaven of the Pharisees; and 
that, notwithstanding my assurance of having passed from death 
unto life, in consequence of loving the brethren, this boasted love 
extended to none, but those of my own persuasion. I always re- 
turned from the tabernacle, with my heart filled with religious zeal. 
The intermission of public worship was always appropriated to pri- 
vate devotion ; in a word, all my devotional habits were restored, 
and my Sundays were an exact transcript of those, which I had 
passed in the family of my father. The Sundays, upon which 1 
took my seat at the communion table, in the chapel, were more 
abundantly fatiguing. The chapel was some miles from my 
lodgings ; but I never absented myself, either summer or winter, 
and 1 greatly exulted when I was the first, who appeared within 
its consecrated walls. The more 1 suffered in reaching this place, 



LIFE OP REV. JOHJf MURRAY. 



73 



the more I enjoyed when there ; and often, while passing the streets 
of London, in the midst of rain or snow, my heart has swelled with 
transport, in the thought, that I was going to heaven by means of 
these difficulties and trials; while the many, who were then sleep- 
ing, ware suspended over the pit of destruction, into which they 
must one day fall, to rise again no more forever. And why, Oh ! why, 
I used to repeat, am I snatched, as a brand from the burning ; why 
am I, an offender against light, precept and example, made a bless- 
ed heir of heaven, while far the greater part of my species are con- 
signed to endless misery ? There were a number of young people, 
of both sexes, who, having assembled from a great distance, could 
not return home after service, in season for breakfast. One of the 
society kept a house near the chapel, where individuals thus cir- 
cumstanced were accommodated. There we often collected, and our 
opportunities were delightful. Being remarkable for a humble de- 
meanor, I was, on this account, much noticed and caressed ; and I 
rarely quitted the assembly without a heart overflowing with love 
and gratitude toward God and His dear children. I was not confined 
to any particular place of worship ; I was accustomed to present my- 
self, at the stated times, in various congregations ; wherever I heard 
of a great man, I made a point of attending upon his labors. Among 
the many places of public worship, to which I resorted, there was 
a Baptist meeting, where I obtained great satisfaction. The minis- 
ter was a warm, animated preacher, and the people uncommonly se- 
rious. To this house many of the tabernacle adherents resorted ; for, 
at this time, there was no service at that place, except in the morn- 
ing and evening In a vestry, attached to the Baptist meeting, 
many of the congregation met, before the commencement of divine 
service, and some of them alternately sang and prayed. By those 
persons, I was received with great kindness ; this affected me ex- 
ceedingly ; and perceiving that it did, they loved me yet more for 
the value I evidently set upon their affection, till, at length, I be- 
came an object of general attention. United plans were laid to 
draw me out, and I had pressing invitations to their religious so- 
cieties, and afterwards to their houses. The minister distinguished 
me ; solicited me to visit him ; and delighted to speak peace to me, 
both publicly, and privately. I was entreated to pray in the socie- 
ty, which, as a timid, and unpatronized stranger, I had so recently 
entered ! I complied, and every one seemed affected ; I myself was 
greatly moved, deeply penetrated by reflection, upon what I had 
been, and what I then was, and my soul was transported by the 
consideration, that I was re-admitted into the society of the people 
of God. My presence was now anxiously expected in the congre- 
gation, and at the house of many individuals ; I was marked by 
those, who attended at the tabernacle, and many other places of 
worship; aud I was so much caressed, by serious people of sundry 
persuasions, that, when I have been asked, what denomination 1 
was of, I have replied, an independent Baptist, Methodist, Church- 
man. I hardly knew which of those I liked best, or loved most ; 



74 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



and Mr. Whitefield, upon whom they all occasionally attended, 
strove, both by precpt and example, to convince us, that a differ- 
ence, respecting non-essentials, was utterly inconsistent with the 
Christian character. 

Among the many, who extended to me the hand of amity, was 
a merchant, who never appeared so happy, as when conversing 
with me ; he received me into his house, and employed rne in his 
counting room ; here I fancied my circumstances improved, but I 
was deceived. This gentleman was a mere superficial professor of 
religion, which, when I discovered, I determined to return to my 
former situation. I had paid all my debts ; I was easy, and occa- 
sionally happy, and 1 allowed myself many little indulgences, which, 
while a debtor, 1 should have believed criminal. 

The leaving my new patron gave mc, however, same pain ; he 
had a very high opinion of me, although I could not reciprocate 
his esteem. He was ambitious of obtaining a name in the Church, 
and, for this purpose, lie contemplated the observance of morning 
and evening prayer in his family ; but, not being an early riser, he 
was at a loss to know how to reconcile his devotions with his busi- 
ness. At last he said : 1 You, my friend, are accustomed to perform 
the honors of my table. If you prolong your grace at breakfast, it 
will answer for morning prayer V Greatly shocked, and complete- 
ly disgusted, my determination to quit him was confirmed. I was 
still very communicative, and, consequently, the reason of my de- 
parture was generally known ; so that my once warm friend was, 
as may be supposed, converted into a bitter enemy. I was, how- 
ever, rather commended than censured, while the conduct of the 
man of business excited general contempt. This gratified me! 
alas, the piety of this world is based on pride! I now became, as 
far as I wjis known, an object of attention in every place, where 
vital religion, as it was phrased, obtained its votaries, Mr. Ro- 
maine, JVJr. Jones, and many other clergyman, distinguished me. 
Hints were thrown out respecting my once more coming forward 
as a public teacher ; but against this I was determined. I was as- 
tonished, that I had ever dared to venture upon so responsible an 
assumption ! As the eternal well-being of the many was supposed 
to rest with the preacher, an error in judgment would consequent- 
ly be fatal to his hearers ; and, as I had now learned that I was 
not perfect in knowledge, 1 could not be assured I should not lead 
the people astray ; in which tremendous event they Would, to all 
eternity, be imprecating curses on my head. Considerations of 
such magnitude were sufficient to seal my lips ; but I was charac- 
terized as a pattern of piety, and my experiences were greedily 
sought by individuals of various denominations. There was a so- 
ciety, belonging to a Baptist meeting, near Good Man's Fields, 
which met statedly at each other's houses once every week ; this 
was the society, in which I was most admired, and to which, of 
course, 1 was the most attached. In this society there were indi- 
viduals, who, like myself, were tabernacle worshippers, but who 



life of rev. john mdrray. 



75 



attended this meeting, when there was no service there. I had 
surrendered up my whole soul to those religious exercises, which 
the several societies to which I had attached myself, demanded. 
My plan was to devote myself wholly to my God, to the advance- 
ment of my spiritual interest, to considerations pertaining to the 
kingdom of heaven. Wedded life, a family, these made no part of 
my plan ; I was persuaded, I should pass my life incelihacy ; and, 
had monastic seclusion consisted with Protestantism, I should glad- 
ly have embraced its retirement, with its duties. In the socijty, 
collected near Good Man's Fields, there was a young gentleman re- 
markable for the sanctity of his manners ; we were strongly and 
mutually attached to each other. Many, very many happy hours 
did we pass together. During the winter, we were constantly at 
the tabernacle before day. We narrated to each other our experi- 
ences ; we prayed, we wept, we joyed, and sorrowed together ; 
and, with unfeigned affection, we loved one another. I questioned 
him respecting his connexions, when he informed me, that his pa- 
rents had died in his infancy ; that he had been brought up by his 
grand fattier, who was a very profligate old gentleman, and abhor- 
red the very name of Whitefield! But, he added, that, through 
the mercy of God, he was not entirely alone. He had a sister with 
him in the family, reared also by his grandparent, who was a good 
and gracious girl ; that their nights were frequently devoted to 
prayer ; but that they dared not let their grandfather know they 
had ever been seen at the tabernacle, or in any of i hose societies, 
from which they derived their chief happiness. Indeed, he ob- 
served, his sister seldom ventured out ; but he had made such rep- 
resentations of me, that she had desired him to let her know, when 
I should again meet the Baptist society, and she would make a 
point of being there ; and, I request you, said he, my dear sir, to be 
at the sochety next Sunday evening, and she will most unquestion- 
ably be there. I cannot say, I had any curiosity respecting this 
young lady ; but Sunday night came, I was expected, and the 
great room was filled previous to my arrival. I entered, every one 
rose at my entrance, and 1 felt dignifiedly pious, seriously happy. 
My young friend approached, and told me, in a whisper, his sister 
would have been greatly disappointed, had any thing detained me 
that evening. On my entrance I had glanced at a young lady, ex- 
tremely beautiful, who appeared attired by the hand of elegance ; 
it was with difficulty I could take my eyes from her! I was con- 
founded, I changed my seat, that I might not behold her, and, 
when thus addressed by Mr. Neale, I responded by asking where 
his sister was seated, when he pointed to the fascinating figure, 
who had so imposingly attracted my attention. 'That young lady, 
sir, is Miss Neale — my sister; she has long wished for an opportu- 
nity of seeing you ; I am happy that she is now gratified.' An in- 
troduction was in course ; I had much to say through the evening, 
and my friend declared I had never spoken better, I addressed 
the throne of grace ; my own heart was softened, and the hearts of 



76 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



my audience were softened also. I returned home, but the beau- 
teous image of the sister of my friend accompanied me ! I could 
not for a moment exclude the lovely intruder from my imagination. 
I was alarmed ; I wept, I prayed, but every effort was fruitless ; 
the more I strove to forget her, the more she was remembered. I 
was impatient to behold her again, yet I most devoutly wished we 
had never met. I was convinced my peace, my happiness were 
forever fled ! This was truly astonishing ; I had recently been so 
positive, that the combined sex did not possess the power to en- 
gage my attention for a single moment. Some time elapsed during 
which the captivating engrosser of my heart never relinquished, no, 
not for a single instant, that entire possession, which she had taken 
of my imagination ; when, after an evening lecture, while the con- 
gregation were quitting the meeting-house, a lady, who kept a 
boarding-school lor young ladies, requested I would pass the next 
evening at her house, as her young people were to collect their 
friends, and she wished some one to introduce religious conversa- 
tion. I had no inclination to accept this invitation, and I accord- 
ingly made my excuses ; but the good lady continued to press me, 
and added, I expect Miss Neale will be of the party. Of this im- 
posing article of intelligence, I experienced the full force ; but I en- 
deavored to disguise my emotions ; and, the request being once 
more repeated, I consented, and returned home, notwithstanding 
all my resolutions, transported with the prospect of once more be- 
holding the dear object of my admiration. That I was now be- 
come a real lover, there could be no doubt. I was early at the 
place appointed, and my enraptured heart danced with joy, when 
I once more beheld the triumphant fair one ; I was happy to ob- 
serve, that she regarded me with marked attention, but her predi- 
lection was rather for the Christian, than the man. I was, howev- 
er, beyond expression elated, and my conversation partook of the 
elevation of my soul. The evening was nothing ; it was gone, ere 
I was sensible it had well commenced. Eliza, for that was her 
fascinating name, arose to take leave ; I was greatly chagrined ; I 
had calculated upon attending her home: but a confidential friend 
had been sent to take charge of her. I ventured, however, to ex- 
press a hope, that I should see her at Mrs. Allen's, a friend, warm- 
ly attached to us both, on the following Wednesday evening. She 
modestly replied, she would endeavor to be there ; and in the interim, 
I sought to learn if she were disengaged, but I could obtain no sat- 
isfactory information. The appointed evening was passed most 
delightfully, at Mrs. Allen's ; I had the felicity of attending the 
young lady home, and the temerity to ask such questions, as ex- 
torted an acknowledgment, that she was not engaged. With 
tremhling eagerness, I then ventured to propose myself as a candi- 
date for her favor. ' Alas ! sir,' she replied, ' you have formed too 
high an opinion of my character; I trust you will meet a person 
much more deserving of you, than I can pretend to be.' I re-urged 
my suit, with all the fervor, which youth, and an irrepressible 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



77 



passion could furnish. Her answer is indelibly engraven upon the 
tablets of my memory. 'You, and I, sir, profess to believe in an 
overruling Providence; we have l>oth access to the throne of our 
heavenly Father. Let us, sir, unbosom ourselves to our God ; I 
shall*, I do assure you ; so, I am persuaded, will you ; and if, after 
we have thus done, we obtain the sanction of the Most High, I 
trust I shall be resigned.' 

We had now reached her habitation, the threshold of which, no 
professed follower of Whitefield was ever allowed to pass. I sup- 
plicated for permission to write to her; and, in the full confidence 
of christian amity, she acceded to the prayer of my petition. From 
this period, no week passed during which we did not exchange 
letters; and the pages we filled might have been submitted to the 
most rigid inspection. Mrs. Allen was our confidant, and every 
letter which passed between us was put into the hand of this dis- 
creet matron, without a seal. At the house of this lady we had fre- 
quent interviews, but never without witnesses, and our time was 
passed in singing hymns and in devout prayer. I now believed 
myself the happiest being in creation ; I was certain of possessing 
a most inestimable treasure; and although the grandfather of my 
Eliza, upon whom rested her whole dependence, never saw me; 
and, if he had, never would have sanctioned our union, we cherish- 
ed that hope, which so generally proves fallacious. The dear girl 
requested me to seek and obtain the explicit approbation of her 
brother, ihat she might at least insure his countenance; and upon 
my application to him, he unhesitatingly replied: 'I consider, dear 
sir, my sister as highly honored by your proposals.' But, sir, have 
we your consent ? 'Undoubtedly, sir, and with my whole heart.' 
This was sufficient, and I was completely happy. But, alas ! 
6 never did the course of true love run smooth.' We were on the 
verge of a most distressing calamity : this brother, in whom we had 
reposed unlimited confidence, became my inveterate foe, and writ- 
ing an anonymous letter to his grand father, he represented me as'a 
fortune-hunter, who was seeking to obtain the heart of his grand- 
daughter, for the purpose of making a prey of her property ! This 
letter produced the desired effect: the old gentleman was extreme- 
ly irritated, and, sending for Eliza, he put the letter into her hand, 
and sternly asked her if she had entered into any engagement with 
a person by the name of Murray ? when, receiving an answer in 
the affirmative, he gave full eredit to all the rest ; and being a man 
of violent passions, he threatened her with the loss of his favor, if 
she did not immediately promise to renounce me forever. He was 
well apprized, if he could obtain her promise, he had nothing fur- 
ther to apprehend. The firm, self-collected girl implored his par- 
don if she did not yield credence to the slanders, contained in the 
despicable scrawl he had placed in her hand; she besought him to 
see me, to converse with me ; promising, that if, upon a personal 
acquaintance, he continued to disapprove, she would endeavor to 
bend her mind to an acquiescence with his will. Her grandfather 



78 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



was inexorable ; he would admit no conditions ; and ultimately as- 
sured the young lady, if she did not relinquish every thought of 
me, she might give up all idea of ever receiving a single penny of 
his property. He granted her three days for deliberation, during 
which period she was to consider herself a prisoner. Of this un- 
expected event I speedily gained intelligence, and my soul was 
torn by apprehension. To Eliza I could have no access, and even 
the intercourse by letter was suspended ! In this state of agonizing 
suspense, I remained, until, through the instrumentality of the 
chambermaid, a letter was brought to Mrs, Allen for me; which 
letter, while it gave a most affecting detail of her sufferings, con- 
tained the fullest assurance of her unbroken faith and steadfastness. 
She recommended it to me to apply to the same Source from 
whence she herself had derived consolation ; to the Almighty Fa- 
ther of our spirits, who held in His hands all hearts: and, she ad- 
ded, that no power short of Omnipotence should ever prevail upon 
her to give her hand unaccompanied by her heart; and that in a 
few hours she should be so circumstanced as to prove the sincerity 
of my affection, for she was speedily to render her final answer to 
her grandfather. She hoped for divine support during the arduous 
trial, to which she was called to submit; and she most earnestly so- 
licited my prayers in her behalf. A second letter was soon hand- 
ed me, giving an account of the second interview. ' Well, my dear 
child,' said the old gentleman, ' what am I to expect ? Am I to lose 
my daughter, the comfort of my declining life? Or will you have 
compassion upon my old age, and relinquish this interested design- 
ing man ? ' * If, my dear sir, I had any reason for supposing the 
person of whom you speak, such as you believe him, the relin- 
quishment which you require, would not cost an effort ; but, sir, 
Mr. Murray is an honest man ; he has a sincere affection for me ; I 
have given him reason to hope, and, until I am convinced he is un- 
worthy of my esteem, I cannot consent to treat him as if he were/ 
Here the passions of the old gentleman began to rise, when the 
dear girl besought him to be calm, assuring him it was neither her 
wish nor intention to leave hirn ; nay, more, she would pledge her 
word never to leave him, while she could have the felicity of at- 
tending upon him, if he would not insist upon her violating her 
faith, tacitly given to me. But this would not do ; she must aban- 
don her lover or her fortune ; and finding her determined, he arose 
from his chair, and seizing his will, in which he had bequeathed 
her one thousand pounds sterling, he furiously flung it into the 
flames, immediately causing another will to be written, in which he 
gave to her brother the portion designed for her ; and thus did this 
young incendiary obtain the object for which he had labored, and 
to which he had most nefariously and darkly groped his way. I 
had now the felicity of learning that my Eliza had a stronger value 
for me than for her patrimony ; and she observed to her grandfa- 
ther that he had furnished her with an opportunity of proving the 
sincerity of my attachment. * If,' said she, * his views are such as 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



79 



you have been taught to believe, he will shortly relinquish me, and 
thus have I, most opportunely, obtained a criterion.' Never did I 
receive a piece of intelligence productive of so much heart-felt 
pleasure as the certainty of that potent prepossession which could 
thus enable her, whom I esteemed the most perfect of human be- 
ings, to surrender up, without a sigh, the gifts of fortune. Words 
cannot delineate how greatly I conceived myself enriched by this 
blissful assurance. Still I met the brother of Eliza at the taberna- 
cle, and occasionally at private societies, and still he wore the sem- 
blance of amity. Previous to this event, the elder Mr. Neale, who 
was always my friend, had become the head of a family : during a 
few weeks, we continued in that condition when my invidious ca- 
lumniator requested me, by a written message, to give him a meet- 
ing at the house of his aunt, a lady who resided next door to his 
grandfather. I obeyed the summons, when, to my great astonish- 
ment, he informed me it was his sister's wish I would think of her 
no more : that there were many young ladies with whom I might 
form a connexion abundantly more advantageous ; and that for her- 
self she was weary of contending with her grandfather. During 
the whole of this studied harangue, the torture of my soul was 
scarcely to be endured. After a most distressing pause, 1 trem- 
blingly interrogated : Tell me, sir, has Miss Neale really empower- 
ed you to act in her behalf? 4 If you doubt it, here is a letter, writ- 
ten with her own hand, furnished* me upon a presumption that I 
might not obtain a speedy opportunity of seeing you ; ' and he put 
the letter into my hand. Mr. Neale knew not that I was in pos- 
session of many of his sister's letters; he knew not that she had 
ever written to me ; if he had he would hardly have exhibited this 
scrawl as hers. The anguish of my soul was no more ; yet I es- 
sayed to conceal my emotions, and contented myself with solemn- 
ly declaring that it was only from the lips of Miss Neale I would 
accept my dismission. ' You may,' said he, 'rest assured you will 
never, with her own consent, again see that young lady.' Thus 
spake, thus acted the man, whom, the very next morning I met at 
Mr. Whitefield's communion. Leaving Mr. Ntale, 1 returned to 
my lodgings, sat down and related to Eliza the whole business, en- 
closing the letter I had received as hers. The ensuing day gave 
me an assurance under her own hand, that the whole procedure 
was unknown to her ; requesting that I would remain perfectly ea- 
sy ; that I would keep my mind entirely to mys3lfj making appli- 
cation only to the wonderful Counsellor, and resting in full assur- 
ance of her fidelity. This was enough, and my fuil soul rejoiced 
in the consolation thus seasonably afforded me. Mr. Neaie, sup- 
posing his arts had succeeded, brought forward proposals in favor 
of a gentleman educated by his grandfather, who had long loved 
my Eliza ; but who, fearful of a rejection, had not disclosed his 
passion. Common fame soon wafted to my ear the report ot these 
new pretensions ; the gentleman was, in every respect, my superi- 
or, and he was declared a successful rival. I met the object of my 



80 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



soul's affection at Mrs. Allen's ; I communicated the lacerating in- 
telligence I had received ; she smiled, tacitly assured me I had not 
much to apprehend, 'and according to custom, added, Let us im- 
prove our opportunity in the best possible manner, let us devote it 
to prayer and to praise. Thus revolved days, weeks, and months ; 
hoping, and fearing, joying, and sorrowing, while my gentle, my 
amiable friend, painfully reciprocated every anxiety. It was sup- 
posed, by her connexions, that she had relinquished her purpose 
in my favor, and a succession of advantageous proposals were 
brought forward, all of which she decisively rejected. Once a week, 
she was permitted to visit, when she never forgot to call upon Mrs. 
Allen. She also allowed me to attend her every Sunday morning 
before day during the winter ; and I considered myself supremely 
happy, in the privilege of presenting myself at her dwelling, on 
those holy days, by lour o'clock, waiting her appearance ; and often 
have I been eyed with suspicion by the watch, and, in fact, I was 
once taken up. Neither storms nor tempests arrested my steps ; 
and sometimes I have tarried, until the dawning day compelled me 
to retire, when I was obliged to pass on, in melancholy solitude, to 
the tabernacle. Yet, between love and devotion, I was a very hap- 
py, very disconsolate being. I richly enjoyed the pleasures of an- 
ticipation, which are generally believed 10 exceed possession ; yet 
my own experience is very far from acknowledging the justice of 
this hypothesis. 1 continued in this state more than a year, snatch- 
ing enjoyments when I could, and placing confidence in fuiurity. 
In the course of this year, my insidious, although still professing 
friend, married a lady of some property — two thousand pounds 
sterling ; his grandfather adding two thousand more, one of which 
he had designed as provision for his grand-daughter; and strange as 
it may appear, this angel girl uttered not, upon this occasion, a sin- 
gle reproach ! The new alliance strengthened the family interest 
against me ; the lady, without knowing me, was my inveterate foe. 
It was about this time discovered, that the attachment of Eliza re- 
mained in lull force. Her grandfather imagined, that we cherish- 
ed hope of a change in his sentiments, or that we should ultimate- 
ly, at least in the event of his death, come into possession of some 
part of his property ; and, that he might effectually crush every ex- 
pectation, he so managed, as to put his most valuable possessions 
out of his own power. The period at length arrived, which com- 
pleted the minority of my tender friend ; it was upon the eighteenth 
day of May, and this day, the elder Mr. Neale, who, as has been 
observed, had still continued my fast friend, determined to render a 
gala, by passing it with me in the country. With the early dawn 
we commenced our little excursion, when we beheld, at a distance, 
a young lady with a small parcel in her hand ; we approached her, 
and, to our great astonishment, recognized in this young lady, the sis- 
ter of my friend, the precious of object my most ardent love. Upon 
that memoiable morning she had quitted the house of her grand- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



81 



father, and all she possessed, that had been his, leaving upon her 
writing-desk a letter, which lay there, until the family, alarmed at 
her not making her appear-ance at the breakfast table, entered her 
apartment, whence the lovely sufferer had so recently flown. 1 he 
letter furnished an explanation ; it was addressed to her grand- 
father, and it informed him, that the writer would ever acknowledge 
unreturnable obligations, for the many favors he had conferred up- 
on her ; that, if she could have been indulged with her wish of liv- 
ing with him, she should have been content ; but, as the solicita- 
tions to enter into matrimonial engagements, by which she was 
persecuted, were unceasing, she was convinced she should not be 
allowed to give this testimony of her filial attachment ; and being 
now of age, she begged leave to deliver up the keys, the sums of 
money, with which she had been entrusted, and whatever else had 
pertained to her grandfather; adding an assurance, that she should 
no more return. Her brother William immediately conducted her 
to his house, whither I attended them, and where, by her jiositive 
orders, we were obliged to leave her. Agreeably to her request, 
we proceeded on our proposed walk, and we learned on our return 
that repeated messengers had been dispatched by her grandfather, 
soliciting her again to become an inmate in his house, and that the 
lady of her youngest brother had been commissioned for this pur- 
pose ; but that every entreaty had proved ineffectual. For me, 
fondly flattering myself, that I should immediately exchange my 
vows with my amiable, my affianced friend, at the altar of our 
God, I was superlatively happy ; but again my high-wrought ex- 
pectations proved fallacious. This strong-minded woman was a 
votary of propriety, and she was determined it should not appear, 
that she had quitted a parent, for the purpose of throwing herself 
into the arms of a husband. She had bid adieu to the paternal 
roof, because she could not, while there, be allowed the exercise of 
her own judgment ; because measures were taking to compel her 
to many a man, she could never approve. Her eldest brother, her 
beloved William, she was confident would patronize, and protect 
her ; and her needle was a resource, from which she could always 
derive a competency. 



8 



82 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Author becomes a happy husband, a happy father. He embraces 
Hhe truth as it is in Jesus;' and from this, and other combining 
causes, he is involved in great difficulties. Death deprives him of 
his wedded friend, and of his infant son, and he is overtaken by 
a series of calamities. 

Hail ! wedded love ! connubial friendship hail ! 
Based on esteem, — if love supplies the gale, 
Borne on life's stream, we cut our balmy way, 
On smooth seas wafted to the realms of day. 

After six tedious months, from the morning of my Eliza's de- 
parture from the mansion of her grandfather, had completed their 
tardy round, yielding to my unremitted importunities, she consent- 
ed to accompany me to the altar. We were attended by William 
and his lady, with our dear Mrs. Allen ; and I received, from the 
hands of our very dear brother, an inestimable treasure, which con- 
stituted me, in my own estimation, the happiest of human beings. 
As I had no house prepared, I gratefully accepted the kindness of 
this beloved brother, who invited us to tarry with him, until we 
could accommodate ourselves ; and, if 1 except one unhappy misun- 
derstanding, which took place soon after our marriage, no wedded 
pair were ever blessed with more unbroken felicity. The disagree- 
ment, to which I advert, would not have continued so long, but for 
the instigations of our brother William, who insisted upon my sup- 
porting what lie called my dignity, which, as he said, could only 
he maintained by the submission of my wife. The quarrel, like the 
quarrels of most married people, originated in a mere trifle ; but 
the question was, who should make the first conciliatory advances. 
For two clays we did not exchange a single word ! ! William still 
imposingly urging me, never to surrender my prerogative ! At 
length, unable to endure such a state of wretchedness, I told Wil- 
liam, I would not live another . hour in such a situation; he only 
ridiculed me for my folly, and bid me take the consequence. I, 
however, entered the chamber of my wife, and, extending my hand, 
most affectionately said : My soul's best treasure, let us no longer 
continue this state of mournful estrangement! for the world I 
would not thus live another day. Why, my love, our sorrows will 
arise, from a thousand sources ; let us not render each other mis- 
erable. The dear girl burst into tears, and throwing her faithful 
arms around me, sobbed upon my bosom, with difficulty articula- 
ting, ' O ! my precious friend, you have, as you always will have, 
the superiority. God for ever bless my faithful, my condescending 
husband.' From this moment we bade adieu to dissension of eve- 
ry description, successfully cultivating that harmony of disposition 
and augmenting confidence, which cannot fail of insuring domestic 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



83- 



felicity. We soon removed to a house of our own, and there, as I 
believe, enjoyed as much of happiness, as ever fell to the lot of hu- 
manity. Yet, although thus satisfied with each other, there were 
sources of inquietude, which created us some distress. I had 
heard much of Mr. .Relly ; he was a conscientious and zealous 
preacher, in the city of London. He had, through many revolving 
years, continued fathful to the ministry committed to him, and he 
was the theme of every religious sect. He appeared, as he was 
represented to me, highly erroneous ; and my indignation against 
him, as has already been seen, was very strong. I had frequently 
been solicited to hear him, merely that I might be an ear witness 
of what was termed his blasphemies ; but, I arrogantly said, I would 
not be a murderer of time. Thus I passed on for a number of years, 
hearing ail manner of evil said of Mr. Relly, and believing all I 
heard, while every day augmented the inveterate hatred, which I 
bore the man, and his adherents.* When a worshipping brother, 
or sister, belonging to the communion, which I considered as hon- 
ored by the approbation of Deity, was, by this deceiver, drawn from 
the paths of rectitude, the anguish of my spirit was indescribable ; 
and 1 was ready to say, the secular arm ought to interpose to pre- 
vent the perdition of souls. I recollect one instance in particular 
which pierced me to the soul. A young lady, of irreproachable 
life, remarkable for piety, and highly respected by the tabernacle 
congregation and church, of which I was a devout member, had 
been ensnared ; to my great astonishment, she had been induced 
to hear, and having heard, she had embraced the pernicious errors 
of this detestable babbler; she was become a believer, a firm, arid 
unwavering believer of universal redemption ! Horrible! most horri- 
ble! So high an opinion was entertained of my talents, having my- 
self been a teacher among the Methodists, and such was my stand- 
ing in Mr. Whitefield's church, that I was deemed adequate to re- 
claiming this wanderer, and I was strongly urged to the pursuit. 
The poor, deluded young woman was abundantly worthy our most 
arduous efforts. He, thai converteth the sinner from the error of his 

* In a letter addressed to Mr. Relly by Mr. Murray, long after he 
had removed to this country, he says : ' Often do I retrace, and with 
great astonishment, the time when I was tilled with pious wrath against 
ou, when I was immeasurably delighted to learn that my friend M ason 
ad written in opposition to you. True, I had never seen your publi- 
cations, but you had written them, and that was sufficient : nay, I was 
persuaded it would have been doing both God and man service to have 
killed ijou, and joyfully should I have held the clothes of any who had 
stoned you to death. How truly wonderful is the power and goodness 
of that God, who has made choice of such a person to spread that very 
testimony contained in the volumes you have written, contained in the 
volume of the Bible, through so many towns, cities and provinces ; and 
with fervency of spirit and great devotion, to advocate that very gospel 
which before he persecuted. Truly it is the Lord's doings, and it is 
marvellous in my eyes.' — Letters and Sketches, ii.212. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



way, shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sim*. 
Thus I thought, thus I said ; and, swelled with a high idea of my 
wu importance, I went, accompanied by two or three of my 
Christian brethren, to see, to converse with, and if need were, to 
admonish this simple, weak, but, as we heretofore believed, merito- 
rious female. Fully persuaded, that I could easily convince her 
of her errors, I entertained no doubt respecting 'the result of my 
undertaking. The young lady received us with much kindness 
and condescension; while, as I glanced my eye upon her fine coun- 
tenance, beaming with intelligence, mingling pity and contempt 
grew in my bosom. After the first ceremonies, we sat for some 
time silent; at length 1 drew up a heavy sigh, and uttered a pa- 
thetic sentiment, relative to the deplorable condition of those, who 
live, and die in unbelief ; and I concluded a violent declamation, 
by pronouncing, with great earnestness, He, that believeth not, shall 
he damned. 

* And pray sir,' said the young lady, with great sweetness, ' Pray, 
sir, what is the unbeliever damned for not believing?' 

What is he damned for not believing? Why, is he damned for 
not believing. 

* But, my dear sir I asked what was that, which he did not be- 
lieve, for which he was damned ? ' 

Why, For not believing in Jesus Christ, to be sure. 

* Do you mean to say, that unbelievers are damned, for not believ- 
ing there was such a person as Jesus Christ ? ' 

No, I do not; a man may believe there was such a person, and 
yet be damned. 

' What then, sir, must he believe, in order to avoid damnation ?* 
Why he must believe that Jesus Christ is a complete Saviour. 

* Well, suppose he were to believe, that Jesus Christ was the 
complete Saviour of others, would this belief save him?' 

No, he must believe, that Christ Jesus is his complete Saviour j 
every individual must believe for himself, that Jesus Christ is his 
complete Saviour. 

' Why, sir, is Jesus Christ the Saviour of any unbelievers? ' 

No, madam. 

' Why, then, should any unbeliever believe, .that Jesus Christ is 
bis Saviour, if he be not his Saviour? ' 

I say he is not the Saviour of any one, until he believes. 

'Then, if Jesus be not the Saviour of the unbeliever, until he be- 
lieves, the unbeliever is called upon to believe a He. It appears to 
me, sir, that Jesus is the complete Saviour of unbelievers \; and that 
unbelievers are called upon to believe the truth ; and that, by be- 
lieving they are saved, in their own apprehension, saved from all those 
dreadful fears, which are consequent upon a state of conscious con- 
demnation.' 

No madam; you are dreadfully, I trust not fatally, misled. Je- 
sus never was, never will be, die Saviour of any unbeliever. 
'Do you think Jesus is your Saviour, sir ?' 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



85 



I hope he is. 

' Were you always a believer, sir ? ' 
No, madam. 

' Then you were once an unbeliever ; that is, you once believed, 
that Jesus Christ was not your Saviour. Now, as you say, he nev- 
er was, nor never will be, the Saviour of any unbeliever ; as you were 
once an unbeliever, he never can be your Saviour.' 

He never was my Saviour till I believed. 

'Did he never die for you, till you believed, sir ? ' 

Here I was extremely embarrassed, and most devoutly wished 
myself out of her habitation ; I sighed bitterly, expressed deep com- 
miseration for those souls, who had nothing but head-knowledge ; 
drew out my watch, discovered it ivas late ; and, recollecting an en- 
gagement, observed it was time to take leave. 

I was extremely mortified : the young lady observed my confu- 
sion, but was too generous to pursue her triumph. I arose to de- 
part; the company arose ; she urged us to tarry ; addressed each of 
us in the language of kindness. Her countenance seemed to wear 
a resemblance of the heaven which she contemplated ; it was stamp- 
ed by benignity ; and when we bade her adieu, she enriched us by 
her good wishes. 

I suspected that my religious brethren saw she had the advan- 
tage of me ; and I felt that her remarks were indeed unanswerable. 
My pride was hurt, and I determined to ascertain the exact senti- 
ments of my associates, respecting this interview. Poor soul, said 
I, she is far gone in error. True, said they ; but she is, notwith- 
standing, a very sensible woman. Ay, ay, thought I, they have as- 
suredly discovered, that she had proved too mighty for me. Yes, 
said I, she has a great deal of head knowledge ; but yet she may be 
a lost, damned soul. I hope not, returned one of my friends; she 
is a very good young woman. I saw, and it was with extreme 
chagrin, that the result of this visit had depreciated me in the opin- 
ion of my companions. But I could only censure and condemn, 
solemnly observing, — It was better not to converse with any of 
those apostates, and it would be judicious never to associate with 
them upon any occasion. From this period, I myself carefully 
avoided every Universalist, and most cordially didl hate them. My 
eanwas open to the public calumniator, to the secret whisperer, and I 
yielded credence to every scandalous report, however improbable. 
My informers were good people ; I had no doubt of their veracity ; 
and I believed it would be difficult to paint Relly, and his connex- 
ions, in colors too black. How severely has the law of retaliation 
been since exercised in the stabs, which have been aimed at my 
own reputation ! Relly was described, as a man black with crimes; 
an atrocious offender, both in principle and practice. He had, it 
was said, abused and deserted an amiable wife ; and, it was added, 
that he retained in his house an abandoned woman ; and that he 
not only thus conducted himself, but, publicly, and most nefarious- 
ly, taught his bearers to dare the liws of their country, and their 



86 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



God. Hence, said my informers, the dissipated and unprincipled, 
of every class, flock to his church ; his congregation is astonishing- 
ly large, the carriages of the great, block up the street, in which his 
meeting-house stands, and he is the idol of the voluptuous of eve- 
ry description. All this, and much more was said, industriously 
propagated, and credited in every religious circle. Denominations, 
at variance with each other, most cordially agreed in thus think- 
ing, and thus speaking of Relly, of his preaching, and of his prac- 
tice. I confess I felt a strong inclination to see, and hear this mon- 
ster, once at least ; but the risk was dreadful ! I could not gather 
courage to hazard the steadfastness of my faith ; and for many 
years 1 persevered in my resolution, on no consideration to contam- 
inate my ear by the sound of his voice. At length, however, I was 
prevailed upon to enter his church ; but I detested the sight of him ; 
and my mind, prejudiced by the reports to which I had listened 
respecting him, was too completely filled with a recollection of his 
fancied atrocities, to permit a candid attention to his subject, or his 
mode of investigation. I wondered much at his impudence, in dar- 
ing to speak in the name of God ; and I felt assured, that he was 
treasuring up unto himself wrath against the day of wrath. I look- 
ed upon this deluded audience with alternate pity and contempt, 
and I thanked God, that I was not one of them. 1 rejoiced, when 
I escaped from the house, and, as I passed home, I exclaimed, al- 
most audibly : Why, O my God, was I not left in this deplorable, 
damnable state? given up, like this poor, unfortunate people, to be- 
lieve a lie, to the utter perversion of my soul ? But I was thus fur- 
nished with another proof of my election, in consequence of my not 
being deceived by this detestable deceiver; and, of course, my con- 
solation was great. 

About this time, there was a religious society established in Can- 
non-street, in an independent meeting-house, for the purpose of 
elucidating difficult passages of scripture. This society chose for 
their president a Mr. Mason, who, although not a clerical gentle- 
man, was, nevertheless, of high standing in the religious world : 
frequent applications were made to him, in the character of a phy- 
siciau to the sinking, sorrowing, sin-sick soul. His figure was 
commanding, and well calculated to fill the minds of young con- 
verts with religious awe. When this company of serious inquirers 
were assembled, the president addressed the throne of grace, in a 
solemn and appropriate prayer, and the subject for the evening was 
next proposed. Every member of the society was indulged with 
the privilege of expressing his sentiments, for the space of five min- 
utes ; a glass was upon the table, which ran accurately the given 
term. The president held in his hand a small ivory hammer: when 
the speaker's time had expired, he had a right to give him notice by 
a stroke on the table, round which the members were seated. But, 
if he approved of what was delivered, it was optional with him to 
extend the limits of[his term. When the question had gone round 
the table, the president summed up the evidences, gave his own 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



37 



judgment, and, having proposed the question for the next evening, 
concluded with prayer. 

Upon this society I was a constant attendant, and I was frequent- 
ly gratified by the indulgence of the president and the implied ap- 
probation of the society. It was on the close of one of those eve- 
nings, which were to me very precious opportunities, that the pres- 
ident took me by the hand, and requested me to accompany him in- 
to the vestry. ' Sit down, my good sir ; you cannot but have seen, 
that I have long distinguished you in this society ; that I have been 
pleased with your observations ; and I have given indisputable evi- 
dence, that both my reason and my judgment, approved your re- 
marks.' I bowed respectfully, and endeavored to express my grati- 
tude in a manner becoming an occasion so truly flattering. 

'My object,' said he, ' in seeking to engage you in private, is to 
request you would take home with you a pamphlet I have written 
against Kelly's Union. I have long wondered that some able ser- 
vant of our Master has not taken up this subject. But, as my su- 
periors are silent, I have been urged by a sense of duty to make a 
stand, and I have done all in my power to prevent the pernicious 
tendency of this soul -destroying book.' 

Although, at this period, I had never seen Relly's Union, yet my 
heart rejoiced, that Mason, this great and good man, had underta- 
ken to write against it, and, from the abundance of my heart, my 
mouth overflowed with thankfulness. 

'All that I request of you,' said Mr. Mason, 'is to take this man- 
uscript home with you, and keep it till our next meeting. Meet 
me in this vestry, a little before the usual time. Read it, I entreat 
you, carefully, and favor me with your unbiassed sentiments.' I 
was elated by the honor done me, and I evinced much aslonish- 
ment at the confidence reposed in me. But he was pleased to ex- 
press a high opinion of my judgment, abilities, and goodness of 
heart, and he begged leave to avail himself of those qualities with 
which his fancy had invested me. 

I took the manuscript home, perused it carefully, and with much 
pleasure, until I came to a passage at which I was constrained to 
pause, painfully to pause. Mr. Relly has said, speaking of the rec- 
ord which (aod gave of his Son : This lift is in his Son, and he, 
that believeth not this record, maketh God a liar ; from whence, in- 
ferred Mr. Relly, it is plain, that God hath given this eternal life in 
the Son to unbelievers, as fully as to believers, else the unbeliever 
could not, by his unbelief make God a liar. This, said Mr. Mason, 
punning upon the author's name, is just as clear as that this writer is 
an Irish Bishop. 1 was grieved to observe, that Mr. Mason could siy 
no more upon a subject so momentous; nor could I forbear allow- 
ing more than I wished to allow, to the reasoning of Mr. Relly. 
Most devoutly did 1 lament, that the advantage in argument did not 
rest with my admired friend, Mason ; and I was especially desirous 
that this last argument should have been completely confuted. I 
was positive, that God never gave eternal life to any unbeliever ; and 



88 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



yet I was perplexed to decide how, if God had not given life to wn- 
believers, they could possibly make God a liar, by believing that ht 
had not. My mind was incessantly exercised, and greatly embar- 
rassed upon this question. What is it to make any one a liar, but 
to deny the truth of what he has said ? But if God had nowhere 
said, he had given life to unbelievers, how could the unbeliever make 
God a liar? The stronger this argument seemed in favor of the 
grace and love of God, the more distressed and unhappy I became ; 
and most earnestly did I wish that Mr. Mason's pamphlet might con- 
tain something that was more rational, more scriptural, than a mere 
pun ; that he might be able to adduce proof positive, that the gift of 
God, which is everlasting life, was never given to any but believers. 
I was indisputably assured, that I myself was a believer; and right 
precious did I hold my exclusive property in the Son of God. 

At the appointed time, I met Mr. Mason in the vestry. ' Well, 
sir, I presume you have read my manuscript ? ' I have, sir, and 1 
have read it repeatedly. ' Well, sir, speak freely, is there any thing 
in the manuscript which you dislike ?' Why, sir, as you are so 
good as to indulge me with the liberty of speaking, I will venture 
to point out one passage, which appears to me not sufficiently clear. 
Pardon me, sir, but surely argument, especially upon religious sub- 
jects, is preferable to ridicule, to punning upon the name of an author. 
' And where, pray, is the objectionable paragraph to which you ad- 
vert ? ' I pointed it out ; but, on looking in his face, I observed his 
countenance fallen ; it was no longer toward me. Mr. Mason ques- 
tioned my judgment, and never afterward honored me by his atten- 
tion. However, I still believed Mason right, and Rtlly wrong ; for 
if Relly was right, the conclusion was unavoidable, all men must fi- 
nally be saved. But this was out of the question, utterly impossi- 
ble; all religious denominations agreed to condemn this heresy, to 
consider it as a damnable doctrine, and what every religious de- 
nomination united to condemn, must be false. 

Thus, although I lost the favor of Mr, Mason, and he published his 
pamphlet precisely as it stood, when submitted to my perusal, yet 
my reverential regard for him was not diminished. I wished, most 
cordially wished success to his book, and destruction to the author 
against whom it was written. 

In this manner, some months rolled over my head, when, accom- 
panying my wife on a visit to her aunt, after the usual ceremonies, 
I repaired, according to custom, to the book-case, and turning over 
many bjoks and pamphlets, I at length opened one that had been 
robbed of its title page ; but in running it over, I came to the very 
argument which had excited so much anxiety in my bosom. It was 
the first moment I had ever seen a line of Mr. Relly's writing, ex- 
cept in Mr. Mason's pamphlet. I was much astonished, and turn- 
ing to Mrs. Murray, I informed her, I held Mr. Relly's Union in my 
hand. I asked our uncle, if I might put it in my pocket? ' Sure- 
ly,' said he, ' and keep it there, if you please, I never read books of 
divinity ; I know not what the pamphlet is, nor do I wish to know.' 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



89 



As I put it into my pocket, my mind became alarmed and perturbed. 
It was dangerous, it was tampering with poison, it was like taking 
fire into my bosom ; I hari better throw it into the flames, or restore 
it to the book-case ; such was the conflict in my bosom. However, 
in the full assurance, that the elect were safe ; and that, although 
they took any deadly thing, it should not hurt them, I decided to read 
the Union ; and having rhus made up my mind, I experienced a de- 
gree of impatience, until I reached home, when, addressing the 
dear companion of my youth, I said : I have, my dear, judged and 
condemned, before I have heard ; but I have now an opportunity 
given me for deliberate investigation. 'But,' returned Mrs. Murray, 
* are we sufficient of ourselves ? ' No, my love, certainly we are 
not; bur God, all-gracious, hath said, If any lack ivisdom, let them 
ask oj God, who giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. My heart is 
exercised by fearful apprehensions ; this moment I dread to read, 
the next I am anxious to hear what the author can say. We will 
therefore, lay this book before our God. There is, my love, a God 
who is not far from every one of us ; we are directed to make our 
requt-sts known unto Him for all things, by supplication and prayer. 
God hath never yet said to any, Seek ye my face in vain ; we will 
then pray for his direction and counsel ; and we may rest in the as- 
surance of obtaining both. Accordingly, we entered our closet, and 
both of us, for we were both equally interested, prostrated ourselves 
before God, with prayers and tears, beseeching Him the God of mer- 
cy, to look with pity on us ; we were on the point of attending to 
doctrines of which we were not, we could not be judges, and we 
earnestly supplicated Him to lead us into all truth. If the volume 
before us contained truth, we entreated him to show it to us, and to 
increase our faith; if, on the other hand, it contained falsehood, we 
beseeched God to make it manifest, that we might not be deceived. 
No poor criminal ever prayed for life, when under sentence of death, 
with greater fervor of devotion, than did my laboringsoul upon this 
occasion supplicate for the light of life to direct my erring steps. 

After thus weeping, and thus supplicating, we opened the bible, 
and began to read this book, looking into the bible for the passages 
to which the writer referred. We were astonished and delighted 
at the beauty of the scriptures, thus exhibited : it seemed as if eve- 
ry sentence w r as an apple of gold in a picture of silver; and still, as 
we proceeded, the wonder was that so much divine truth should be 
spoken by so heinous a transgressor; and this consideration seem- 
ed suggested as a reason why I should not continue reading. Can 
anything good proceed from such a character? Would not truth 
have been revealed to men eminent for virtue ? How is it possible 
discoveries, so important, should never, until now, have been made, 
and now only by this man? Yet I considered, God's ways ivere in 
the great deep ; he would send by whom he would send ; choosing 
the weak and base things to confound the mighty and the strong, 
that no flesh should glory in his presence. An.d, as my lovely wife 
justly observed, I was not sure all I heard of Mr. Relly was true ; 



90 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



that our Saviour had, said to his disciples, They shall say all man- 
ner of evil of you falsely ; and the present instance may he a case 
in point. 'You have no personal acquaintance with Mr. Relly,' 
said she; 'nor do you know that any of those from whom you 
have received his character, are better informed than yourself. I 
think it doth not become us to speak or believe evil of any man without 
the strongest possible proof' All this was rational; 1 felt its full 
force, and blushed for my own credulity. I proceeded to read. 
The Union introduced me to many passages of scripture which had 
before escaped my observation. A student, as I had been of the 
scriptures, from the first dawn of my reason, I could not but won- 
der at myself : I turned to Mr. Mason's book, and I discovered 
want of candor, and a kind of duplicity, which had not before met 
my view, and which perhaps would never have caught my atten- 
tion had I not read the Union. I saw the grand object untouched, 
while Relly had clearly pointed out the doctrines of the gospel. 
Yet there were many passages that I could not understand, and 1 
felt myself distressingly embarrassed. One moment I wished from ' 
my soul 1 had never seen the Union ; and the next my heart was 
enlarged, and lifted up by considerations which swelled my bosom 
to ecstacy. This was the situation of my mind during many suc- 
ceeding months, and a large proportion of my time was passed in 
reading and studying the scriptures, and in prayer? My under- 
standing was pressing on to new attainments, and the prospect 
brightened before me. I was greatly attached to my minister, Mr. 
Hitchins : he was eminent in his line, and a most pleasing preach- 
er. Mrs. Murray was in the habit of taking down his sermons in 
short hand. We were delighted with the man, and accustomed to 
consider him a genuine gospel preacher. It happened that Mr. 
Hitchins took a journey into the country, and was absent on the 
sabbath day. Come, my dear^ said I, our minister is out of town, 
let us avail ourselves of the opportunity, and hear the writer of the 
Union ; this is a privilege, which few, who read books, can have ;. 
as authors are generally numbered with the dead before their la- 
bors are submitted to the public eye.' Her consent was yielded to 
my solicitations ; but we were terrified as we passed along, in the 
fear of meeting some of our religious brethren : happily, however,, 
we reached the meeting-house without encountering any one to 
whom we were known. 

Mr. Relly had changed his place of worship, and we were as- 
tonished to observe a striking proof of the falsehood of those re- 
ports which had reached us ; no coaches thronged the street, nor 
surrounded the door of this meeting-house ; there was no vestige 
of grandeur, either within or without. The house had formerly 
been occupied by Quakers ; there were no seats, save a few bench- 
es ; and the pulpit was framed of a few rough boards, over which 
no plane had ever passed. The audience corresponded with the 
house. They did not appear very religious ; that is, they were not 
melancholy ; and I therefore suspected they had not much piety. 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



91 



I attended to everything ; the hymn was good, the prayer excel- 
lent, and I was astonished to witness, in so bad a man, so much ap- 
parent devotion ; for still, I must confess, the prejudices I had re- 
ceived from my religious friends, were prevalent in my mind. Mr. 
Kelly gave out his text. 4 Either make the tree good and its fruit 
good, or the tree corrupt and the fruit corrupt; for every tree is known 
by its fruit ; a good tree cannot bring forth corrupt fruit, neither can 
a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.' I was immeasurably sur- 
prised. What, thought I, has this man to do with a passage so cal- 
culated to condemn himself? But, as he proceeded, every faculty 
of my soul was powerfully seized and captivated, and I was per- 
fectly amazed, while he explained who we were to understand by 
the good, and who by the bad trees. He proved, beyond contradic- 
tion, that a good tree could not bring forth any corrupt fruit, but 
there was no man, who lived and sinned not ; all mankind had cor- 
rupted themselves ; there were none therefore good; no, not one. 

No mere man, since the fall, has been able to keep the command- 
ments of God ; but daily doth break them, in thought, in word, and 
in deed. There was, however, one good tree, JESUS ; He indeed 
stands, as the apple-tree, among the trees of the wood ; He is that 
good tree, which cannot bring forth corrupt fruit ; under his shad- 
ow the believer reposeth ; the fruit of this tree is sweet to his taste; 
and the matter of his theme constantly is, Whom have I in heaven 
but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.' 1 was 
constrained to believe, that I had never, until this moment, heard 
the Redeemer preached ; and, as I said, 1 attended with my whole 
jsoul. I was humbled, I was confounded ; I saw clearly, that J had 
been all my life expecting good fruit from corrupt trees, grapes on 
thorns, andfgs on thistles. I suspected myself; 1 had lost my stand- 
ing ; I was unsettled, perturbed, and wretched. A few inoividuals 
whom I had known at Mr. Wbitefi t eld's tabernacle, were among 
Mr. Relly's audience, and I heard them say, as they passed out of 
the aisle of the church, I wonder how the Pharisees would like 
our preacher? I wished to hear Mrs. Murray speak upon the sub- 
ject; but we passed on wrapped in contemplation. At length I 
broke silence : Well, my dear, what are your sentiments? 'Nay, 
my dear, what is your opinion ? ' I never heard truth, unadulter- 
ated truth, before ; so sure as there is a God in heaven, if the scrip- 
tures be the word of God, the testimony this day delivered, is the 
truth of God. It is the first consistent sermon I have ever heard. I 
reached home full of this sermon ; took up the Union, read it with new 
pleasure; attended again and again, upon Mr. Kelly, and was more 
and more astonished. Mr. Hitchins returned home, but, as I con- 
ceived, very much changed, more inconsistent than ever. 'No, 
my dear,' said my wile, 'it is you, who are changed ; he preaches, 
as 1 can prove by my notes, precisely the same ; yet it is truly sur- 
prising, that his multiplied contradictions have, until now, passed 
without our observation.' Well, said I, what are we to do? Can 
we, in future, bear such inconsistencies, now that we are better in- 



92 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



formed ? Suppose we keep our seats as usual ; attending, however, 
one half of every Sabbath, to the preacher of Christ Jesus ? On this 
we immediately determined, and, by this expedient, we imagined 
we might be gratified by hearing the truth, without running the 
risk of losing our reputation ; for we well knew, that, 'as professed 
adherents of Mr. Relly, we could no longer preserve that spotless 
fame we delighted to cherish. 

I now commenced the reading of the Scriptures, with augment- 
ed diligence. The Bible was indeed a new book to me ; the veil 
was taken from my heart, and the word of my God became right 
precious to my soul. Many scriptures, that 1 had not known, for- 
cibly pressed upon my observation ; and many, that, until now, I 
had not suffered myself to believe. Still the doctrine of election 
distressed me; unfortunately, I had connected this doctrine of elec- 
tion with the doctrine of final reprobation ; not considering, that, al- 
though the first was indubitably a scripture doctrine, the last was 
not to be found in, nor could be supported by revelation. I determin- 
ed to call upon, and converse with Mr. Hitchins, on this important 
subject. I found him in his study, encompassed about with the 
writings of great men. I wait upon you, sir, for the purpose of ob- 
taining help. The Arminians show me many scriptures, which 
proclaim the universality of the Atonement. I cannot answer them. 
What my dear sir, shall I do ? 'Why, sir, the doctrines of election, 
and reprobation, are doctrines we are bound to believe, as articles 
of our faith ; but I can say, with the Rev. Mr. Hervey, I never wish 
to think of them, except upon my knees. I never heard any one 
undertake to explain them, who did not still further embarrass the 
subject. One observation is, however, conclusive, and it never fails 
effectually to silence the Arrninian : That if, as they affirm, Christ 
Jesus died for all men, then assuredly all men must be saved ; for no 
one can be eternally lost, for whom the Redeemer shed his precious 
blood; such an event is impossible. Now, as the Arminians will 
not admit a possibility, that all will finally be saved, they are thus 
easily confounded.' This, I thought, was very good ; it was clear, 
as any testimony in divine revelation, that Christ Jesus, died for all) 
for the sins of the whole world, for every man, &c. ; and even Mr. 
Hitchins had declared, that every one, for whom Christ died, must 
Jinally be saved. This I took home with me to my wife : she saw 
the truth, that we were so well prepared to embrace, manifested 
even by the testimony of its enemies, and we were inexpressibly 
anxious to hear, and to understand. We now attended public wor- 
ship, not only as a duty, conceiving that we thus increased a fund 
of righteousness, upon which we were to draw in every exigence, 
but it became our pleasure, our consolation, and our highest enjoy- 
ment. We began to feed upon the truth as it is in Jesus, and eveiy 
discovery we made filled us with unutterable transport. I regard- 
ed my friends with increasing affection, and I conceived, if I had an 
opportunity of conversing with the whole world, the whole world would 
he convinced. It might truly have been said, that we had a taste of 
heaven below. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY 93 

It was soon whispered in the tabernacle, that I had frequently 
been seen going to, and coming from Relly's meeting ! This alarm- 
ed many, and one dear friend conversed with me in private upon 
the subject, heard what, from the abundance of my heart, my mouth 
was constrained to utter, smiled, pitied me, and begged I would not 
be too communicative, lest the business should be brought before 
the society, and excommunication might follow. I thanked him for 
his caution ; but as I had conversed only with him, I had hazarded 
nothing. In a short time I was cited to appear before the society, 
worshipping in Mr. Whitefield's tabernacle ; I obeyed the summons, 
and found myself in the midst of a very gloomy company, all seem- 
ingly in great distress ; they sighed very bitterly, and at last gave me 
to understand, that they had heard, I had become an attendant up- 
on that monster, Relly, and they wished to know if their informa- 
tion was correct. I requested I might be told, from whom they 
had their intelligence ? and they were evidently embarrassed by 
my question. Still, however, I insisted upon being confronted with 
my accuser, and they at length consented to summon him ; but 1 
was nearly petrified when I learned it was the identical friend, who 
had privately conversed with me, and who had privately cautioned me, 
that had lodged the information against me! Upon this friend 1 
had called, in my way to the tabernacle, confiding to him my situ- 
ation ; he said, he had feared the event ; he pitied me, and prayed 
with me. But he did not calculate upon being confronted with me, 
and his confusion was too great to suffer his attendance. It was 
then referred to me : * Was it a fact, I had attended upon Relly ? ' 
I had. f Did I believe what I had heard ? ' I answered that I did 
— and my trial commenced. They could not prove, I had violated 
those articles, to which I had subscribed. I had, in no point of 
view, infringed the contract, by which I was bound. But they ap- 
prehended, if I continued to approbate Relly, by my occasional at- 
tendance on his ministry, my example would become contagious ; 
except, therefore, I would give them my word, that I would whol- 
ly abandon this pernicious practice, they must, however unwilling- 
ly, pronounce upon me the sentence of excommunication. I refu- 
sed to bind myself by any promise ; I assured them I would con- 
tinue to hear, and to judge for myself; and that I held it my duty 
to receive the truth of God wherever it might be manifested. ' But 
Relly holds the truth in unrighteousness.' I have nothing to do 
with his unrighteousness ; my own conduct is not more reprehen- 
sible, than heretofore. They granted this ; but the force of exam- 
ple was frequently irresistible, and, if I were permitted to follow, 
uncensured, my own inclination, others might claim the same in- 
dulgence, to the utter perversion of their soujs. It was then con- 
ceded in my favor, that, if I would confine my sentiments to my 
own bosom, they would continue me a member of their commu- 
nion. I refused to accede to this proposal. I would not be under 
an obligation to remain silent. I must, so often as opportunity 
might present, consider myself as called upon to advocate truth. 



94 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



The question was then put — Should I be considered a member of 
the society upon my own terms ? And it was lost by only three 
voices. 

It was one in the morning, when I returned home to my poor dis- 
consolate wife, who was waiting for me ; and when I entered her 
apartment, my spirits were so sunk, that, throwing myself into a 
chair, I burst into tears. But the sweet soother of my every woe, 
hastened to communicate that consolation she was so eminently 
qualified to besiow. 'Now,' said she, 'for the first time, you know 
what it is to suffer for Christ's sake ; and you must arm yourself 
with fortitude to bear, what the adherents of Mr. Kelly must al- 
ways bear. Let us offer up praise and thanksgiving, that it is no 
worse. Fear not those, ivho can only kill the body ;* these, however, 

* The passage of scripture here referred to, is Matt. x. 28, Luke xii. 
4, 5. See the passages and their contexts. The word rendered hell is 
Gehenna, for the sense of which see Matt. v. 22, and xxiii. 33. Its pri- 
mary signification was the valley of Hinnom, near Jerusalem, which 
the Jews made a place of legal punishment; but the word is also used 
figuratively to signify the afflictions which befel the Jews at the time of 
the destruction of their city. These are the unquestionable, and, in my 
view, the only senses in which gehenna occurs ; and the following is a 
list of the twelve places in which it may be found in the New Testa- 
ment : Matt. v. 22, 29, 30 ; x. 28 ; xviii. 9 ; xxiii. 15, 33 ; Mark ix. 43, 
45, 47 ; Luke xii. 5 ; James iii. 6. 

To ' destroy soul and body in gehenna,' as we read Matt. x. 28, was 
utterly to destroy a person by casting him into the fire which was kept 
constantly burning in the valley of Hinnom. The Jews, after their 
subjection to the Romans, had not the power lawfully to take life. 
When Pilate, the Roman governor told the Jews to take Christ and 
punish him according to their laws, they replied, ' it is not lawful for 
us to put any man to death.' John xviii. 31. Here then were the two 
powers referred to in Matt. x. 28— the Jewish and the Roman power. 
The Jews could torture and scourge in their synagogues, but the Ro- 
man power alone could lawfully take life. ' Fear not them which tor- 
ture the body.' The Greek verb cannot be rendered kill, because the 
act is distinguished from killing, which is immediately spoken of in the 
same verse. ' Fear not them which torture the body, but are not able 
to hill, (j)svche) the life,' i. e. destroy life. The Jews were not lawful- 
ly able to destroy life ; but the Romans were able. The disciples 
therefore were warned by their Master to fear that power less which 
could torture without 'killing the soul,' or destroying life, than the 
power which could cast them into the fire of the valley of Hinnom. 

It has been usual to interpret this passage as having reference to God 
— ' Fear God, who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.' But 
there is a very serious objection to this interpretation, viz. ; Jesus told 
his disciples in the same conversation not to be afraid of God, for he 
would certainly take care of them. ' Are not two sparrows sold for a 
farthing ? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your 
Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear yje 
not, therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.' Here they 
are instructed not to be afraid that God will forsake them. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



95 



h ave not power to kill the body ; it is true, they can do more ; they 
can murder our good name, which is rather to he chosen than life 
itself. But let us not fear; our God will be with us, He will pre- 
serve aud protect us.' Our hearts, however, were very full, and 
with great devotion we wept and prayed together. 

About this time, the grandfather of my Eliza sent for her to vis- 
it him, at his country seat, ten miles from London ; this was highly 
gratifying, and abundantly more so, as I also was included in the 
invitation. After seeing and conversing with me, he sincerely la- 
mented, that he had been so far duped by the artful and designiug, 
as to put the disposition of the greater part of his property at his 
decease, entirely out of his own power ; but what he could do, he 
most cheerfully did. Yet even here we were pursued by disap- 
pointment. He requested me to procure him a capable, sober do- 
mestic ; and I engaged a woman, who, as 1 believed answered his 
description ; but, proving an artful hussey, she gradually obtained 
over the mind of the old gentleman, an astonishing influence, that 
resulted in a marriage, which effectually prevented his family con- 
nexions from ever again visiting him ! Thus were our new-born 
expectations, from a reconciled parent, levelled with the dust. A 
series of calamities succeeded ; those whom I had esteemed my 
best and dearest friends, proved my most inveterate foes, and, find- 
ing it impossible to reclaim us, from what they conceived the paths 
of error, persecuted us with unceasing virulence. Presents, be- 
stowed in the day of confidence, as tokens of affection t were claim- 
ed as legal debts ; and as the law does not allow presents, I was ar- 
rested for the amount, betrayed, by my religious friends, into the 
hands of bailiffs, at a time when, had the promised lenity been ex- 
ercised, I could have paid to the utmost farthing. Thus Heaven 
thought proper to keep us low ; but our faith increased and we cher- 
ished that hope, which maketh not ashamed ; and, even while strug- 
gling with difficulties, we enjoyed a heaven upon earth. Gradual- 
ly I surmounted the greater part of my difficulties. At the house of 
our brother William, I had an interview with our once obdurate 
younger brother ; he seemed penetrated with sorrow for our long- 
continued estrangement; he hung upon my neck, wept bitterly, and 
expressed a fear, that I could never forgive him. I also shed many 
tears, and, extending to him the hand of amity, clasped him to my 

From the above considerations, we are persuaded the following is the 
true sense of the passage in question : ' Fear that power less which can 
scourge and torture your bodies, but cannot destroy life, than the pow- 
er which can lawfully and totally destroy you in the valley of Hinnom,' 
the place where judicial death was inflicted. These two powers are 
distinguished, Matt. x. 17, 18 : ' Beware of men, for they will deliver you 
up to the councils, and they will scourge you in their synagogues.' 
This was the Jewish power, that could not lawfully take life ; and the 
Roman power is referred to in the next verse : < And ye shall be brought 
before governors and kings for my sake, for a testimony against them 
and the Gentiles.' T. W. 



96 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



bosom, with a most cordial embrace. This was a most pleasant 
circumstance to my beloved Eliza ; all now seemed delightful. We 
had a sweet little retirement in a rural part of the city; we wanted 
but little, and our wants were all supplied ; and perhaps we enjoy- 
ed as much as human nature can enjoy. One dear pledge of love, 
a son, whom my wife regarded as the image of his father, comple- 
ted our felicity. But, alas ! this boy was lent us no more than one 
short year! He expired in the arms of his agonized mother, whose 
health, from that fatal moment, began to decline. I was beyond ex- 
pression terrified. Physicians recommended the country ; but my 
business confined me in London, and my circumstances would not 
admit of my renting two houses. I took lodgings at a small dis- 
tance from town, returning myself every day to London. The dis- 
order advanced with terrific strides ; my soul was tortured ; every 
time I approached her chamber, even the sigh, which proclaimed 
she still lived, administered a melancholy relief. This was indeed a 
time of sorrow and distress, beyond what I had ever before known ; 
I have been astonished how I existed through such scenes. Sure- 
ly, in every time of trouble, God is a very present help. I was ob- 
liged to remove the dear creature, during her reduced situation, the 
house in which I had taken lodgings being sold ; but 1 obtained for 
her a situation about four miles from town. The scenes around her 
new lodgings were charming ; she seemed pleased, and I was de- 
lighted. For a few days we believed her better, and again I expe- 
rienced all the rapture of hope. My difficulties, however, were ma- 
ny ; I was necessitated to pass my days in London ; could I have 
continued with her, it would have been some relief. But as my 
physician gave me no hope, when I parted from her in the morn- 
ing, I was frequently terrified in the dread of meeting death on my 
return. Often, for my sake, did this sweet angel struggle to ap- 
pear relieved ; but, alas! I could discern it was a struggle, and my 
anguish became still more poignant. To add to my distress, pover- 
ty came in like a flood. I had my house in town, a servant there ; 
the doctor, the apothecary, the nurse, the lodgings in the country ; 
every thing to provide ; daily passing, and repassing. Truly my 
heart was very sore. I was friendless. My religious friends had, 
on my hearing and advocating the doctrines preached by all God's 
holy prophets, ever since the world began, become my most invet- 
erate foes. Our grandfather was under the dominion of the wo- 
man I had introduced to him, who had barred his doors against U3 ; 
the heart ol our younger brother was again closed, and, as if an- 
gry with himself for the concessions he had made, was more than 
ever estranged; and even our elder brother, who in every situation 
had for a long season evinced himself my faithful friend, had forsa- 
ken us! I had, most indiscreetly, ventured to point out some er- 
rors in the domestic arrangements of his wife, which I believed 
would eventuate in his ruin, and he so far resented this freedom, as 
to abandon all intercourse with me. Among Mr. Relly's acquaint- 
ance, I had no intimates, indeed hardly an acquaintance ; I had 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



97 



suffered so much from religious connexions, that I had determined, 
as much as possible to stand aloof, during the residue of my jour- 
ney through life. Thus was I circumstanced, when the fell destroyer 
of my peace aimed his most deadly shafts at the bosom of a being 
far dearer to me than my existence. My credit failing, my wants 
multiplying, blessed be God, my Eliza was ignorant of the extent 
of my sufferings; she would have surrendered up her life, even if 
she had feared death, rather than have permitted an application to 
either of her brothers ; yet was I by the extremity of my distress, 
precipitated upon a step so humiliating. Stopping at a coffee-house 
near our brother William's, I penned a hurried line, requesting he 
would give me an immediate meeting; and sending it by a porter, 
1 waited, in agony indescribable, its effect. Almost instantaneously 
he entered the coffee-house, and, without uttering a word, took a 
seat ; nor was I for some moments able to articulate. My soul 
was tortured ; he saw it and could not avoid feeling. At length 
he questioned, ' Pray, what is the matter?' Your sister is very 
near her end, and, wore we both so, it would be to me the cause of 
exultation, and you would have been spared this trouble. My ap- 
plication to you will be a sufficient explanation of my circumstan- 
ces ; and should you think proper to call upon a once dear, now 
dying sister, 1 have to request you would not notice my having 
sought this interview, it would embitter the last moments of her 
life. He was amazingly shocked, yet, as this was the first syllable he 
had heard of her indisposition, he flattered himseif my fears had mag- 
nified the danger ; but he assured me, he would see her without de- 
lay. I however desired he would grant me time to prepare her for 
his visit ; it must, said I, appear entirely accidental ; and I hastened 
to our lodgings. I met your brother William, my love, who, hav- 
ing heard you are indisposed, kindly inquired after you ; I think he 
means to visit you. ' If, my precious friend, you have not descend- 
ed so low as to ask any favor of him, I shall be glad to see him.' 
I will not, my love, do any thing, which 1 ought not to do. I sat 
down by her bed-side. That face upon which strangers had gazed 
enraptured, was now the seat of death's wan harbinger, and her 
struggles to conceal her sufferings, were but too visible. Quitting 
the room, I inquired of the nurse how she had been during my ab- 
sence ? She told me, she had endured much pain, was very anx- 
ious for my return, and expressed a fear that she should never a- 
gain behold me. I was summoned by the mistress of the house, 
who was so charmed by the deportment of my Eliza, and had con- 
ceived so great an affection for her, as to find it difficult to quit her 
apartment. But my suffering friend, taking my hand, and drawing 
me near her, whispered a wish, that we might be alone ; I gave the 
good lady a hint, who instantly withdrew. 

I kneeled by her bedside : she drew me closer to her, and throw- 
ing her feeble, her emaciated arms around my neck she gave me 
an ardent embrace; I was unutterably affected. 'Be composed 
my dear' said she, 'and let those precious moments be as calm as 
9* 



98 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



possible ; we may not be allowed another opportunity. Dear faith- 
ful friend, in life, — in death, dearer to me than my own sou!, — God 
reward you for all the kind care you have taken of me. O ! may 
my heavenly Father provide some one to supply my place, who 
may reciprocate the kindness you have shown me. Fray be com- 
posed ; remember we are not at home ; that we shall shortly meet 
in our Father's house ' — here she paused — and again resuming- — 
1 Our parting, when compared with eternity, will be but for a mo- 
ment. What though we have not continued together so long as 
we fondly expected, yet, my love, we have had an age of happi- 
ness. It is you, my precious husband, who are the object of pity. 
God all gracious console and support you. Be of good cheer, my 
love, we shall meet in the kingdom of the Redeemer — indeed, in- 
deed we shall.' Again, she threw her dying arms around me ; her 
soul seemed struggling with the magnitude of her emotions. For 
me, I could not have articulated a syllable for the world. It is as- 
tonishing I did not expire; but there is a time to die. Again like 
the wasting taper, she seemed to revive. Again, with uncommon 
energy, she pronounced, upon her almost frenzied husband, the 
solemn benediction ; this brought on a cough : she pointed to a phia! 
upon her dressing table. I gave her a few drops. ' There, my best 
friend, I am better — be composed, my faithful, my suffering guide, 
protector, husband. Oh ! trust in the Lord : let us, my love, stay 
upon the God of our salvation; He will never leave us; He will 
never forsake us ' — then grasping my hand, she continued : ' These 
moments, my dear are very precious ; we have had many precious 
moments; you will not go out again, I shall not again lose sight of 
you. You will abide with me, so long as I shall continue ' — I could 
contain no longer : My suppressed agony became audible ; she drew 
me to her : ' Do not distress me, my love.' — She was deeply affect- 
ed ; her cough came on with additional violence. The sound of 
my voice brought in the kind lady of the house ; she believed the 
angel had escaped. I requested her to reach the phial. The ex- 
piring saint motioned it away. 'It is too late, my love,' she would 
have added ; but utterance instantly failed her, and without a single 
struggle, she breathed her last, still holding my hand fast in hers. 
I was on my knees by her bedside. I saw she was breathless, but 
she still held my hand. Ten thousand worlds, had I possessed 
them, 1 would have given, for permission to have accompanied her 
beatified spirit. I am astonished that I retained my reason. On- 
ly a few weeks, a few tremendous weeks since the commencement 
of her illness, had rolled on when, kneeling in speechless agony by 
her bedside, I saw her breathe her last ; she expired without a sigh, 
without a pang, and I was left to the extreme of wretchedness. A 
few moments gave me to reflection — I contemplated her form, 
beautiful even in death ; she was no more a sufferer either in body 
or mind, and, for a little while, I derived malignant satisfaction, 
from the consideration of what her brothers would endure, when 
they found, that, in this world they should no more behold her* I 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



99 



was shocked at myself ; it seemed as if the sainted spirit mildly re- 
proved me ; I clasped my hands in agony ; I supplicated pardon of 
the deceased, and of her God. It appeared to me, I had been de- 
ficient in affection, and the idea spoke daggers to my soul, Mem- 
ory cruelly summoned before me many instances, in which she 
might have been obliged, but distraction was in this thought. I sat 
in speechless agony by her bedside; having locked the door, no 
one could obtain entrance. Almightly God, how unutterable were 
the sorrows of my soul ! ! ! 

I was aroused from this state, by the arrival of our brother Wil- 
liam. He obtained entrance ; he glanced upon the bed — gazed for a 
moment — averted his eyes — trembled, and became pale as the face 
of my lamented saint — and at length in silent agony, quitted the 
apartment. The good lady of the house now made her appear- 
ance, and in a tone of sympathy supplicated me to retire. The ne- 
cessary offices were performed, and all that remained of my wedded 
friend was prepared for the undertaker, who came by the order of 
her opulent brother : that brother, who had nefariously robbed her 
of her right of inheritance, who contributed so largely, while she 
lived, to her sufferings, and who now endured anguish more than 
equivalent for all fche riches of the world. A hearse and mourning 
coaches attended, and the dear remains, followed by her brothers 
and their families, were entombed in the family vault. The coach- 
man was directed to convey me, after the interment to the house 
of our younger brother. He was again a prey to contrition and to 
sorrow, and he urged me to cherish hope. I assured him, I had 
nothing to do with hope, at least in this world. He made great 
professions of affection, and liberal promises of future kindness ; but 
it was too late ; and though I believe he was at the time sincere, 
yet, when his strong feelings subsided, he was himself again. 

Here I close another period of my eventful life ! What a sad 
reverse ! A few short weeks since, I was in the most enviable cir- 
cumstances; my situation was charming, my dwelling neat and com- 
modious ; my wife, the object of my soul's devout and sincere affec- 
tion, her lovely offspring swelling the rapture of the scene, a male 
and female domestic attached to our persons, and faithful to our in- 
terest ; and the pleasing hope, that I should enjoy a long succession 
of these delights. Now I was alone in"the;world ; no wife, no child, 
no domestics, no home ; nothing but the* ghosts of my departed 
joys. In religion, and religion only, the last resort of the wretch- 
ed, I found the semblance of repose ; religion taught me to con- 
template the state to which I was hastening ; my dreams presented 
my departed Eliza ; I saw her in a variety of views, but in every view 
celestial : sometimes she was still living, but in haste to be gone ; 
sometimes she descended upon my imagination, an heavenly visi- 
tant, commissioned to conduct me home ; and so much of felicity 
did I derive from those dreams, that I longed for the hour of re- 
pose, that I might reiterate the visionary bliss. 

But new embarrassments awaited me; doctors, apothecaries, 



100 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



grocers, &c. &c, advanced with their bills ; yet I was not much 
affected. I was overwhelmed by far greater afflictions. My health 
had greatly suffered. My sight, by excess of sorrow, — so said my 
physician,— was almost gone. Often have I traversed George's- 
Fields, where many have met death on the point of the foot-pad's 
dagger, in the mournful hope of meeting a similar fate ; forgetting, 
in the state to which I was reduced, that, in thus devoting myself 
to destruction, I indubitably ranked with the self-murderer. The 
eldest brother of my departed friend continued, from the period of 
his sister's demise, uniformly kind; through his instrumentality, 
many of my most pressing debts were discharged. My mind seem- 
ed subdued ; it became a fit residence for sorrow, when I received 
a letter from Ireland, written by my brother James. Many of our 
family were numbered with the dead ; of all her children, my 
mother, had now only three surviving sons and two daughters. 
My eldest sister was married, and my mother, leaving our common 
property in her care, was about to repair with her youngest 
daughter, and two sons, to England. She was not apprized 
of the death of my Eliza. I had written her, that I was blest 
with a most lovely and exemplary companion ; but from the 
death of my son, and the farther and entire prostration of 
my terrestrial happiness, I had suspended my communications. I 
was now again necessitated to take a house ; my mother and my 
brothers resided with me ; and my sister with a lady, to whom she 
had been introduced in Ireland. She soon after married, and, as 
I believed imprudently, and I saw her no more. I now lived a 
mournful life ; the world appeared to me in a very different point 
of view, from what it had formerly done ; yet I derived ecstatic 
pleasure from my views of revelation. William Neale became con- 
vinced of the truth, as it is in Jesus ; and, of course, an adherent 
of Mr. Relly. This soothed me, and the word of God was an abid- 
ing consolation. To a few individuals I was made a messenger of 
peace ; but my mother, and my brother James, remained inveterate 
opposers of the doctrines I had embraced, I sometimes visited the 
tabernacle, and, conceiving an affection for all men, I had a kind of 
satisfaction in standing in the midst of my brethren. It was at the 
tabernacle I was informed, that a poor, unhappy, widowed woman, 
sister to a man whom I had loved, was in most deplorable circum- 
stances ; she had been deceived by a villain ; her kindred had been 
made acquainted with her situation, but their indignation was kin- 
dled against her ; they would not see her ; and her religious con- 
nexions abandoned her, while she was suffering all the miseries of 
want, accompanied by her own agonizing reflections. I discover- 
ed her in a miserable room ; no glass in the windows, no fire in the 
chimney; she was laying on something which had been a bed; a 
child, of a few days old in her bosom, but no nourishment lor it; 
another child dead by her side, and a third apparently dying. Up- 
on my entrance she covered her face with her hands. ' I know 
you, sir ; you are come to upbraid me : yes, I deserve it all ; but 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



101 



by and by ray measure will be full.' I burst into tears. I come to 
upbraid you ? God forbid. No, poor sufferer ; I am come a mes- 
senger from that God, who giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. 
Be of good cheer, you have still a Father, who loves you with an 
everlasting love, and he has sent me to comfort you ; he has seen 
your affliction, and he has bid me relieve you. 

This seemed too much for the poor, forlorn creature ; she ap- 
peared in the moment of expiring. I ran out of the house, into a 
shop at the corner of the alley, the mistress of which was, to my 
knowledge, perfectly acquainted with the situation of the sufferer. 
I demanded, why she thus neglected a human being? 'Ah, the 
wretched creature, she deserves this and more,' was this good wo- 
man's reply. But although neither the love of God, nor of human 
nature, could move this hard-hearted woman, I had that in my 
pocket, which possessed, for her, an irresistible charm ; and at the 
hazard of my reputation, I bade her procure coal, a restorative cor- 
dial, and a blanket to cover the sufferer. I then proceeded to the 
dwelling of a lady, one of Mr. Kelly's congregation, to whom 
I had recently been introduced ; I represented the situation, 
in which, in the midst of an opulent city, I had discover- 
ed a fellow creature. The lady was extremely affected, and 
visited the poor penitent, whom I found relieved and com- 
forted. She requested me with many tears, to put up a note for 
her aid was instantaneous. The next day, Sunday, I again 
her in the tabernacle. There happened, on that day, to preach in 
the tabernacle a Mr. Edwards, whom I had formerly known> in 
connexion with Mr. Wesley. I presented a note in the following 
words: The prayers of this congregation are requested in behalf of 
a widow indeed, confined to a bed of sickness, without property 
and encompassed by the dying and the dead. I attended again in 
the tabernacle in the evening, and when the sermon closed, Mr. 
Edwards said: 'If the person be here, who put up the note this 
morning, in behalf of a widow indeed, I should be glad to speak 
with him in the vestry.' Accordingly presenting myself, I was ve- 
ryicordially received by Mr. Edwards, who observed, he was hap- 
py I was the person ; that his feelings had been greatly affected by 
the note ; that he had read it to a lady, at whose house he had din- 
ed, who, putting two guineas into his hand, requested him, if possi- 
ble, to find out the widow indeed, and bestow them upon her. I 
conveyed this little sum to the sorrowing woman, with feelings, 
which those who know how to sympathize with the unfortunate 
will easily understand ; and I assured the poor mourner, that the 
God, who gives and forgives, had sent her another proof of h is fa- 
vor. Arise, said I, forlorn sufferer, and sin no more. I had the 
charge of the child's funeral ; the other recovered. The mother 
was soon abroad, and continued, ever after, to conduct with exem- 
plary propriety. This instance, among a thousand others, proves, 
that faith in the promises is the best stimulus to that pure and un- 
dented religion, which consists in relieving the oppressed of every 



102 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



description ; and with gratitude I confess, that this pure and unde- 
nted religion was, to> me, a never-failing source of consolation. I 
was full of the gospel; gladly would I have sacrificed my life, 
if I might thus have brought all men acquainted with the riches 
of the grace of 1 he gospel of God our Saviour; and my soul was 
often wrought up to a degree of ecstacy, by the views, exhibited 
to my understanding, in the pages of divine revelation. Yes, 
I have experienced, that a belief of the truth disposes the mind 
to love God, and to do good to man ; and so greatly was my 
heart affected by the plan of redemption, that 1 have, in the 
midst of the streets of London, been so entranced in contem- 
plating its glories, that I have only been awakened to recol- 
lection, by the jostling crowd, who wondered as they passed ; yet, 
while in the fulness of my heart, I embraced every opportunity of 
expatiating upon the great salvation, everything beside had lost the 
power to charm, or even tranquillize, and the torturing sensations 
I experienced, from reflecting upon past times, were not to be ex- 
pressed : death had for me an angel's face, and I viewed this some- 
times king: of terrors, as my emancipating friend. 

The forbearance of my creditors was at length exhausted. 
Debts crowded upon me. Demands, which I was utterly unable 
to answer, were continually made. Had the health of my lovely 
wife been continued, I was in a very fine way. Her sickness, her 
death, by dashing from me the cup of felicity, while expenses 
accumulated, debilitated my mind, and rendered me unequal to 
those efforts, which my exigencies required. In the midst of my 
supineness, I was taken by a writ, and borne to a spunging-house* 
My sensations were, on this occasion, very different from those 
which I had formerly experienced, in a similar situation ; and I 
derived, from the expected seclusion, a kind of melancholy pleas- 
ure. The officer was astonished at my apathy; I refused suste- 
nance ; I had no inclination for food. I would swallow nothing but 
water. I would have no bed: a bed must be paid for, and I was 
penny less. I slept on the floor of a room, hung with cobwebs, the 
windows of which were secured by iron bars. I prayed most fer- 
vently to Him, with whom are the issues of life and death, that as 
He had not allowed his creatures the privilege of departing out of 
time, when, and how they pleased, He would graciously vouch- 
safe to grant me my deliverance from a world, where I could 
serve neither my God, my neighbor, nor myself. But, alas ! as I 
have often found, death comes not at call. The barred windows 
admitted just light enough to announce the return of day ; soon 
after which, the keeper unlocked the door, and in a surly m mner, 
asked me how I did? Indifferent, sir, I replied. ' By G — , I 
think so! but sir, give me leave to tell you, J am not indifferent, 
and if you do not very soon settle with your creditors, I shall take 
the liberty to lodge you in Newgate. I keep nobody in my house 
that does not spend anything, damn me. I cannot keep house, 
and pay rent and taxes for nothing. When a gentleman behaves 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



103 



civil, I behave civil; but, damn me, if they are sulky, why then, do, 
ye see, I can be sulky too; so, sir, you had better tell me what you 
intend to do.' Nothing. ' Nothing ? damn me, that's a good one ; 
then, by G — you shall soon see 1 will do something, that you will not 
very well like.' He then turned upon his heel, drew the door with a 
vengeance, and doubled-Jocked it. Soon after this, his helpmate pre- 
sented herself, and began to apologize for her husband ; said he 
was very quick ; hoped I would not be offended, for he was a very 
good man in the main ; that she believed there never was a gentle- 
man in that house, (and she would be bold to say, there had been as 
good gentlemen there, as in any house in London) who had ever 
any reason to complaiu of his conduct. He would wait upon any 
of my friends, to whom I should think fit to send him, and do all 
in his power to make matters easy ; 'and if you please, sir, you are 
welcome to come down into the parlor and breakfast with me.' 
And pray, my good lady, where are you to get your pay ? ' O, I 
will trust to that, sir; I am sure you are a gentleman. Do, sir, come 
down and breakfast ; you will be better after breakfast. Bless 
your soul, sir, why there have been hundreds, who settled their 
affairs, and did very well afterwards.' I was prevailed upon 
to go down to breakfast. There was, in the centre of the entry, a 
door half way up, with long pikes; every window was barred 
with iron; escape was impossible; and indeed I had no wish to 
escape; a kind of mournful insensibility pervaded my soul, for 
which I was not then disposed to account, but which I have since 
regarded as an instance of divine goodness, calculated to preserve 
my little remains of health, as well as that reason, which had fre- 
quently tottered in its seat. 

To the impertinent prattle of the female turnkey I paid no atten- 
tion ; but, hastily swallowing a cup of tea, 1 retired to my prison. 
This irritated her ; she expected I would have tarried below, and 
as is the custom, summoned my friends, who, whether they did 
anything for my advantage or not, would, by calling for punch, 
wine, &c. &c, unquestionably contribute to the advantage of the 
house. But as I made no proposal of this kind, nor indeed ever 
intended so to do, they saw it was improbable they should reap any 
benefit by or from me ; and having given me a plentiful share of 
abuse, and appearing much provoked that they could not move me 
to anger, they were preparing to carry me to Newgate, there to 
leave me among other poor, desperate debtors; and their determi- 
nation being thus fixed, 1 was at liberty to continue in my gloomy 
apartment, and, what I esteemed an especial favor, to remain there 
uninterrupted. I received no invitation either to dinner, tea, or sup- 
per ; they just condescended to inform me, when they came to lock 
me in, that I should have another lodging the ensuing night; to 
which 1 made no reply. My spirits, however, sunk in the prospect 
of Newgate. There, I was well informed, I could not be alone; 
there, I knew, my associates would many of them be atrocious of- 
fenders, and I was in truth immeasurably distressed. It was now 



104 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



that eveiy argument, which I had ever read in favor of suicide, was 
most officiously obtruded upon my mind, and warmly impressed 
upon my imagination. It was stated, that my Almighty Father 
could not be angry with me for leaving such a world, in such cir- 
cumstances ; the opposition of reason seemed to result from the 
prejudices of education ; ' and,' said illusive fancy, 'as it is appoint- 
ed for all men once to die,* to do that to-day, which I may do to- 
morrow, and what I must shortly do, cannot be very wrong.' It is 
true, my monitor assured me, that the God, who had created me, 
was the only proper j udge of the exact moment, when I ought to 
be removed out of time ; that He best knew what benefit might 
accrue to myself, or the community, by my longer continuance in 
this vale of tears ; yet these remarks, with many more of the same 
description, were not sufficiently imposing to endow me with reso- 
lution still to '■abide the pelting of the pitiless storm;'' and I deter- 
mined to finish my wretched existence, before the dawning of anoth- 
er morning. This was indeed a night of horror ; but, in the mo- 
ment of executing my fatal, my God-dishonoring purpose, the im- 
age of my Eliza, irradiating the prison walls, seemed to stand be- 

* Mr. Murray here partly quotes a passage of scripture which is very 
generally misunderstood. We take the liberty to subjoin what we con- 
sider to be its true sense. The apostle had been speaking of the re- 
semblance between the Jewish and Christian dispensations, an analogy 
which he traces not only in the ninth chapter, but through it to the end, 
and far into the tenth. The men unto whom it was appointed to die 
were the priests, who died figuratively in their sacrifices. Their death 
was a sacrificial death, and for this reason it was compared to the death 
of Christ, who died a sacrifice for all mankind. Hence it is said, { As, 
(mark the comparison) it is appointed unto men once to die, so Christ 
was once offered to bear the sins of many.' Here it is evident the 
death of these men was spoken of in a sacrificial point of view, because 
it is compared with the death of Christ as a sacrifice. The common 
death of all men is not sacrificial ; and how then can it be compared 
with the death of Christ as an offering for the sins of many ? ' But af- 
ter this the judgment.' What was this judgment ? Ans. A part of the 
Jewish ceremonies connected with the sacrificial death of the high 
priest. Hence, the breastplate of the priest was called ' the breastplate 
of judgment,' and the priest was said to bear the judgment of the chil- 
dren of Israel upon his heart when he went into the holy place. This 
breastplate he wore after his death in the sacrifice. The priest died 
once in the sacrifice, and after that bore the judgment of the children of 
Israel, i. e. their justification, upon his breast. They then stood legally 
judged, or justified, in the sight of God, and the breastplate was a sign 
of it. As the priest died for the Jews, so Christ died for all mankind. 
As after the priest's death he bore, in sight of all who looked for him, 
the judgment or justification of Israel on his heart, so Jesus, unto all 
who looked for him, appeared the second time, raised from the dead, 
bearing the judgment, or justification of all men upon his heart. For 
' he was delivered for our offences, and raised againfor our justification.' 
Rom. iv. 25. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



105 



fore me. She appeared as if commissioned by Heaven to soothe my 
tortured spirit. I prostrated myself before the perhaps imaginary 
vision, and, for the first moment since I had occupied this dreary 
abode, my heart softened, and a shower of tears came to my relief; 
yea, and 1 was relieved. My soul became calm, and although every 
hope from this world was extinct in my bosom, yet I believed I 
should be better able to accommodate myself to whatever sufferings 
the Aimighty might think proper to inflict. 1 passed the remain- 
der of the night in endeavoring to fortify my mind \ a pleasing mel- 
ancholy took possession of my spirit. I drew consolation from re- 
membering the time of suffering was not long ; that there was a rest, 
a life of uninterrupted felicity beyond the grave; that of this rest, this 
life, no power on earth could deprive me ; and that 1 ought there- 
fore quietly to wait, and patiently to hope, for the salvation of my 
God. Thus, although my night had been sleepless, my mmd be- 
came so calm, and my spirit so greatly refreshed, that when the 
keeper opened the door in the morning, to inform me, that in three 
hours he should lodge me in Newgate, 1 answered with unaffected 
composure : 1 am ready, sir. 

In less than an hour, however, I had a new source of inqui- 
etude. My brother, William Neale, having received a hint of the ar- 
rest, had searched from place to place, until at length finding me, 
with tears of sympathy he reproached me, even in the presence of 
the woman, for not immediately summoning him to my relief. 
This female turnkey, observing the appearance of my brother, and 
the feeling manner in which be addressed me, began to hope, not- 
withstanding what she had termed my obstinacy, that they should 
reap some benefit from me after all. 'Why,' said William, 'did 
you not send for me immediately upon your entering this house ? ' 
'Ay, dear sir, so I said: why, dear sir, said I, cannot you send for 
some of your friends ? for 1 know'd as how the gentleman had ma- 
ny friends, and my husband would have gone himself to any part 
of the town, with all his soul. No one can ever say that we were 
backward in doing everything in our power to serve and oblige 
every gentleman that ever came into our house : and, though I say 
it, that should not say it, I believe there is not a house, in our way, 
in London, that has ever had more good people in it, as a body may 
say, than ours ; and, says I, Lord, sir, says I, you need not for to 
make yourself uneasy ; it is no crime, sa^s I, to be in difficulty, or 
the like of that; the best people in the world, says I, are in the 
greatest difficulties, says 1: I am sure, 1 have had my share of 
troubles and difficulties in this world, says I ; but 1 had belter, says 
I, have them here, than in a worse place ; 1 hope I shall atone lor 
all my sins here.' Thus did this creature's tongue run, and would 
have continued so to do, had not my brother asked if 1 had break- 
fasted. 'Ay, sir, lam glad to bear you say something of that. The 
poor gentleman has not seemed to care anything about eating or 
drinking: for my part 1 was frightened, in the dread of the poor 
gentleman's dying in the house : I would have urged him over and 



106 



LIFE OF RET. JOHN MURRAY. 



over again ; but said I, may be he will think as how that I meai* 

my own interest, and so I did not care to say much about it; but, 
sir, the poor gentleman can't think you have any interest.' 1 Get 
breakfast, ma'am.' ' Tea or coffee, gentlemen ? ' ' Both, ma'am ; 
and, do you hear, let us have a private room.' ' Yes, sir.' When 
left alone, my friend and brother again reproached me for delaying 
my communications to him. I frankly told him that I was so far 
lkm being disposed to solicit his aid. that I seriously regretted he 
had discovered me; that I had no wish to involve my friends in 
my difficulties ; that I would much rather continue a prisoner for 
the remainder of my life, than incur obligations which I had no 
prospect of discharging. ' Poh, poll, 5 said he, ' this is idle talk. You 
cannot believe you would be the only sufferer from your continu- 
ing endurance.'' But I should not suffer long. 'You know not 
how long, however; drop the subject, here is breakfast; sit you 
down, and let us breakfast together; we will resume our subject by 
and by.' Yes, William, we will resume our subject, by and by; 
but suffer me to observe, you shall not come under bonds on my 
account, neither shall you discharge my debts; consent to this stip- 
ulation, or I touch no breakfast. ' Pshaw, pshaw, how whimsi- 
cal ; but eat your breakfast man : I promise I will do neither. We 
then breakfasted in peace, and I derived a mournful kind of plea- 
sure from the assurance, that I should not involve the brother of 
Eliza in my ruin. But, how great was my astonishment, when he 
ordered in the officer, who was also master of the house, when, af- 
ter demanding and discharging his bill, he produced a receipt in 
full from my creditor, and a complete discharge for me. Thus was 
I liberated from the fangs of these harpies, and I accompanied this 
commiserating brother to his hospitable mansion, where he related 
to me the means by which he had discovered me. 

Quitting this noble-minded friend, I hastened home to my suffer- 
ing mother, who was in agonies on my account ; ignorant where 
I was, or what was my situation, her apprehensions were of the 
most fearful kind. We mingled our tears, while she most affection- 
ately endeavored to soothe me, and to bind up my broken heart ; 
but my only remaining hope was, that, in this distempered state, 1 
had not long to suffer. But, alas! here also 1 was deceived; long, 
very long have I continued, and with heart-felt sorrow, to tread this 
thorny maze. The brothers of my departed angel combined to 
help me forward ; many plans were proposed for me ; a sum of 
money was hired to place me, as a partner, in a mercantile house, 
and my brothers were my bondsmen ! I detested the thought of new 
prospects from such a world as this, but, to my beloved William 
I was largely in debt ; he had a growing family, and both gratitude, 
as well as justice, demanded I should make every effort for his re- 
muneration. Thus I again became a melancholy man of business. 
It was supposed the road, not only to competency, but to affluence 
was open before me, and I was pronounced in flourishing circum- 
stances. It was, for those who loved me, a pleasing dream ; but 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



107 



soon the golden vision vanished, and I awoke to the certainty of 
its being no more than a dream. 

Again I returned to my lonely dwelling, pleased with the thought, 
that my solitude would, no more be interrupted ; again I detested 
the world, and all which it could bestow. Thus a few more mel- 
ancholy months rolled mournfully away, and I expected to finish 
my days in the retirement, to which I was devoted. One consid- 
eration, however, still pressed heavily upon my mind. The very 
considerable sums, for which I was indebted to my generous broth- 
er, was to me a mighty burden ; and this beloved brother, availing 
himself of my anxiety on this account, once more set me afloat 
Many were the efforts, to which I consented ; great were my 
mental sacrifices. But one expedient remained ; it was a mourn- 
ful expedient. I will not delineate. I pause ; I throw a veil over 
many revolving months ; let it suffice to say, my purpose was 
gained, my debts were paid, my pecuniary circumstances easy ; but 
this was all. How mysterious are the ways of Heaven ! how many 
torturing scenes I have passed through ! But, blessed be God, I 
have passed through them. Thanks be to the Father of mercies, 
they can no more be reiterated. My newly acquired competency 
possessed no charms for me ; I derived no satisfaction from any- 
thing around me. In fact, I had nothng in prospect, and hope 
seemed to have expired in my bosom . 



CHAPTER V. 

TAe bereaved man, quitting his native shores, embarks for America ; 
indulging the fond hope of sequestering himself in the solitude, for 
which he sighed. But, contrary to his expectations, a series of cir- 
cumstances combine to make him a Promulgator of the Gospel of 
God, our Saviour. 

Death's sable pall o'er all my pleasures thrown, 
My native isle to me a .desert grown ; 
Sad and forlorn, to the new world I fled, 
Amid its wilds to shield my widov/ed head. 

Having, as has been described, laid the companion of my youth 5 
the wife of my bosom, in the grave ; my spirit still hovered round 
her tomb. It has been seen, that my life seemed devoted to mis- 
ery ; that I wept at all times, except when I turned my attention to 
that bright world, upon which, I imagined, I was* verging ; that 
I wished the act of putting a period to a weary life had ranked 
among the Christian virtues ; that I never more passionately longed 
for any good, than for the period which was to put an end to my 



108 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



existence ; that I had but few acquaintance ; that I wished not to 
form new connexions ; that I was sick of the world, and all which 
it could bestow ; that the retirement of my lonely dwelling was most 
acceptable to me ; that I abhorred the thought of expecting any 
thing like happiness in this world ; and, that I thus passed weeks 
and months, verily believing, that I should thus- finish my days, 
which, I cherished a soothing hope, would soon be numbered. 

Through those sad scenes of sorrow, to which I was condemned, 
I had one friend, one earthly friend, from whom I derived real con- 
solation. This friend was Mr. James Rclly, the man who had been 
made an instrument, in the hand of God, of leading me into an ac- 
quaintance with the truth, as it is in Jesus. This kind friend often 
visited me ; and in conversing with him, I found my heart lighten- 
ed of its burden ; I could better bear the pitiless storm, that beat 
upon me, when strengthened by the example of this son of sorrow. 
We frequently conversed upon the things of the kingdom, and 
Mr. Relly, observing my heart much warmed and enlarged by these 
subjects, urged me to go forth, and make mention of the loving- 
kindness of God. No, no, I constantly replied, it is not my design 
again to step forth in a public character. I have been a promulga- 
tor of falsehood. ' And why not,' he would interrupt, ' a promul- 
gator of truth ? Surely you owe this atonement to the God, who 
hath irradiated your understanding by the light of his countenance.' 
But no argument he made use of, was sufficiently strong to excite 
in my bosom a single wish, that I had either inclination or capabili- 
ty for a character so arduous; my heart's desire was to pass through 
life, unheard, unseen, unknown to all, as though I ne'er had been. I 
had an aversion to society; and, since I could not be permitted to 
leave the world, I was solicitous to retire from its noise and its non- 
sense ; I was indeed a burden to myself, and no advantage to any 
body else ; every place, every thing served to render me more mis- 
erable, for they led my mind to the contemplation of past scenes, 
of scenes never more to return. Such was the situation of mind, 
when, at the house of one of Mr. Relly's hearers, I accidentally 
met a gentleman from America. 1 listened with attention to his 
account of the country in which he had so long resided ; I was 
charmed with his description of its extent, its forests, its lakes, its 
rivers, its towns, its inhabitants, the liberty they enjoyed, and the 
peace and plenty which they possessed ; I listened to every thing 
with astonishment ; and I turned toward the new world my most 
ardent wishes. I communicated my desire to visit America to my 
mother, to my brethren. I was ridiculed for entertaining a project so 
chimerical. What, cross the Atlantic? For what purpose ? To whom 
would I go ? What could I do ? What object could 1 have in view ? 
I was unable to answer any of these questions ; I had not a single 
acquaintance in America; indeed I had no wish to make acquaint- 
ance ; I had nothing in prospect, but a kind of negative happiness ; 
I did not mean to commence a voyage in pursuit of bliss, but to 
avoid, if possible, a part of my misery. 



life of rev. john Murray, 



109 



My mind for a considerable time labored with my purpose; ma- 
in y difficulties interposed ; I would infinitely have preferred enter- 
ing that narrow house, which is appointed for all living, but this I 
was not permitted to do ; and I conceived, to quit England, and to 
retire to America, was the next thing to be desired. Nights and 
days of deliberation at length convinced my judgment, and I was 
determined to depart for the new world. My few friends urged me 
most earnestly, to let them apply to those, who had connexions in 
America, for letters of introduction or recommendation. No, by 
no means, this would most effectually defeat my purpose : I would 
rather not go, than go thus. My object was to close my life in soli- 
tude, in the most complete retirement ; and with those views I com- 
menced preparations for my voyage. I visited the brother of my 
departed wife, and I beheld both him, and his children, with the 
same eyes a dying person would have beheld them ; tears frequent 
Jy stole down my face, and a thousand thoughts that served to har- 
row up my soul, crowded upon me. I was determined not to re- 
peat this scene, and I bid them adieu : could I have done this upon 
a bed of death, how much happier should I have been ! 

The place I now occupied, to which I had recently removed, was 
extremely beautiful ; it was in the vicinity of London. I had a fine 
garden, and a delightful prospect ; but my better self had fled this 
globe, and with her fled my soul's calm sunshine every heart-felt joy. 
X was, as I have frequently said, extremely wretched ; I spake to 
ihe master of a vessel, bound to New York ; I agreed for my pas- 
sage ; my heart trembled ; it was worse than death. He fixed the 
time for my departure ; every arrangement was made. My brother, 
my widowed mother, I met them in iny parlor ; it was torturing. 
* Sit down, my son,' said my weeping parent ; my brother appeared 
a silent spectacle of sorrow. 'I know you, my child, too well to 
expect I can alter your resolution ; it is now too late to beseech you 
to reflect ; I know you have long reflected, and I am astonished to 
find you still determined. You have a charming situation ; your 
prospects are good ; cculd you but make your mind easy, you might 
still be happy ; why, then, this aversion to life ?' I interrupted her 
by declaring, that the whole world would not, conld not detain me 
longer in England ; yet I passionately loved my country, and my 
few remaining friends shared the best affections of my heart. This 
voluntary exile was worse than death ; but I was impelled to go, 
and go 1 must. My poor mother threw her fond arms about my 
neck: 4 Once more,' said she, 'you leave me, but not now as be- 
fore ; then you left me in my native place, among my natural con- 
nexions ; then, too, I had hope you would again be restored to me 
— but now ' — and she burst into tears : my heart was agonized. I 
entreated her to consider me as on the bed of death, nor again 
to think of me, as of a living son. Be thankful, my mother, be thank- 
ful it is no worse ; be thankful I have not fallen a victim to the de- 
spondency of my spirit. I leave you with your children, with chil- 
dren kind and dutiful ; and, what is better than all, I leave you m 



110 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



the bands and under the care of a kind God, who hath said, I will 
never leave you nor forsake you. 'But shall I hear from you, my 
son ? ' Do not, I entreat you, think of me as living : I go to bury 
myself in the wilds of America; no one shall hear from me, nor of 
me. I have done with the world ; and prostrating myself in the 
presence of my mother and my God, with streaming eyes and sup- 
plicating hands, I commended my soul, and all who were connect- 
ed with me, or allied to me, to that Being who orders all things ac- 
cording to his own good pleasure. 

I left my mother in an agony of affliction, and retired, but not to 
rest. My baggage had been sent on board ship in the morning, and, 
accompanied by my brother, we took a boat and passed down to 
Grave's-End, where I entered on board the vessel, that was to con- 
vey me to America, which, in my then judgment, was tantamount 
to quitting the world. 

The vessel, however, did not sail immediately ; I had an oppor- 
tunity of going on shore again, and spending some time at Grave's- 
End. Fond of being alone, I ascended a lofty eminence, and sat 
me down under the shade of a wide-spreading tree ; here I had 
leisure and inclination for reflection. On one hand, I beheld the 
wide ocean, my path to the new world ; on the other, the Thames, 
upon the silvery surface of which many were passing to London. 
My mind rapidly run over the various scenes I had witnessed, since 
my arrival in that great city. I dwelt upon the good I had lost, nev- 
er more to be recovered. My soul sickened at the recollection of 
my heavy bereavement, of the solitary situation to which I was re- 
duced. I was going from a world in which I had some associates, 
and some friends, into a country where every individual was un- 
known to me ! I was going on board a vessel, to the crew of which 
I was an utter stranger — all gloomy — truly gloomy. One idea, how- 
ever, continued my abiding consolation ; I might soon finish my 
course, and bid an eternal adieu to sorrow of every description. Yet 
I trembled at what was before me ; I was fearful I was wrong. 

Just at this period the wind shifted, the signal was made for 
sailing; bul before I descended the eminence, I once more threw 
my eyes upon the surrounding scenes. I felt destitute, and for- 
lorn ; tears gushed into my eyes. My domestic felicity, my social 
connexions, the pleasure I had derived from listening to the testi- 
mony of truth, these all rushed upon my recollection, with subdu- 
ing power; I prostrated myself upon the ground, with streaming 
eyes exclaiming: Oh, thou dear parent earth, thou much-loved 
native soil, why not open, and give me a quiet resting-place in thy 
bosom. Oh ! thou dear, departed friend of my soul, hast thou no 
power to loose these chains, that bind me to this state of being ? 
Is there no eye to pity, no hand to help a wretched outcast ? can 
I not be indulged with death ? But death comes not at call. In 
this situation I continued bedewing the earth with my tears, until 
it pleased the kind God to speak peace to my tortured heart, and I 
seemed to hear a voice calling unto me. Be of good cheer t your God 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



Ill 



is with you ; He will never leave you nor forsake you ; He is in the 
wide waste, as in the full city. Be not afraid, when thou passtst 
through the waters; 1 will be with thee, fear no evil; the friend of 
sinners will be ivith thee, and make thy way plain before thee ; He 
will cause the desert to blossom, as the rose. The young lions cry, 
and thy heavenly Father feedeth them. Thou art nearer and dearer 
to thy heavenly Father, than all the inhabitants of the deep, than all 
the tenants of the forest. Thus did the spirit of grace and consola- 
tion comfort my afflicted heart, so that, after bidding an affection- 
ate adieu to the scenes of the morning and meridian of my days ; 
after taking what I believed an eternal leave of my native soil, of 
my friends, and relatives ; after dropping many tears to the memo- 
ry of each ; and, last of all, to the ashes of my dear self; with an 
aching head, a pained heart, and eyes swelled by weeping, on Sat- 
urday evening, July twenty-first, in the year of our Lord one thou- 
sand seven hundred and seventy, I hastened on board the brig 
'Hand-in-hand;' and, upon the ensuing morning, as we passed 
round Beachy Head, T beheld the white cliffs of Albion. No lan- 
guage can describe my sensations, as those white cliffs receded 
from my view, as I took a last look of England ! I retired to my 
cabin, covered my face, and wept until I was completely exhaust- 
ed. But God was pleased to lift up the light of his countenance 
upon me ; my voyage passed more pleasantly than I had calculat- 
ed, and I was the happy instrument of contributing to the comfort 
of many on board. I was not sick upon the passage ; I became 
more than reconciled to my circumstances, and I almost dreaded 
the thought of reaching my destined port. 

I did not anticipate my fate upon my arrival ; I had determined 
upon nothing, and yet I was not distressed ; a perfect indifference 
pervaded my soul. I had in my trunks many articles of clothing, 
more than I should want; for I did not calculate upon being many 
years an inhabitant of this globe. I had some money, I had my 
Bible, and a very large collection of the letters of my Eliza, in 
which I took much delight; and, upon the whole I fancied my- 
self rather rich, than otherwise. In this state of resignation, indif- 
ference, or insensibility, I passed the greater part of the voyage. 

As we drew near the coast of America, L experienced none of 
those delightful sensations, which swelled my bosom, a few years 
before on returning to England from Ireland ; neither did 1 expe- 
rience those terrifying apprehensions, for which there was such 
abundant reason, on advancing to an unknown country, without 
patron, or friend. My mind was calm and unruffled, neither 
elated by hope, nor depressed by fear. I had obtained precisely 
that situation, for which I had supplicated Heaven, when entering 
upon this untried state of being, humbly depending upon that God, 
who was in every place the same unchanging friend of the crea- 
ture' whom he had made. I was, as it were, between two worlds ; 
one I had tried, and, finding it contained more of bitter than of 
sweet, I had turned from it with disgust. I advanced toward the 



112 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



other, without high-raised expectations, without fearful apprehen- 
sions. I was pleased with the wonders of my God, as I beheld 
them in the great deep ; I was amazed at the variety of its inhab- 
itants, yet how small a part could I trace. I was astonished at the 
number of birds, flitting over the ocean ; and I thought, if provi- 
sion was made for them, I had no reason for fear. On a brilliant 
moonlight evening, our ship struck on something, which threw us 
off our seats! What could it be? We were in the centre of the 
Western ocean. We soon discovered it was a sleeping whale ; 
we also beheld the water-spout, so often described, as a surprising 
phenomenon. Thus was my wondering mind beguiled of its sor- 
rows. We saw a number of vessels on our way, some passing to 
the country we had left: my heart sighed, as they pursued their 
course, and I frequently, and audibly exclaimed, Dear native coun- 
try, never more to be seen by ine ! nor was the exclamation un- 
accompanied by a tear. 

We were, as it was supposed, within three days of New York, 
when we met a vessel, bound for England. Our merchant ques- 
tioned the captain, respecting the state of public affairs in America. 
The Americans had, some time before, entered into the non- 
importation agreement, and our merchant was anxious, on account 
of the goods he had on board. The captain assured him, they had 
given up the agreement in Philadelphia, but that they zealously 
adhered to it in New York. Our captain, therefore, received 
immediate orders to change the course of the vessel for Philadel- 
phia ; but when we had got near enough to this harbor to take a 
pilot, the pilot informed us, the reverse of the information we had 
received was the truth ; upon which the merchant determined to 
go as far as the city, there obtain a certainty, and if so, to proceed 
to New York with all possible dispatch. We were a consider- 
able time passing up the Delaware, and, upon a fine day, while we 
lay at anchor, the merchant proposed going on shore, for the pur- 
pose of obtaining corn and fruit. i 

It was in the month of September, when we arrived in the Dela- 
ware: the country, upon the banks of this fine river, exhibited a 
most enchanting appearance, especially to those, who had been for 
many weeks out of sight of land, and had never seen those shores 
before. As we drew near the land, the woods, seeming to grow 
out of the water, had to me a very uncommon appearance ; but 
every thing, in this country, was uncommon. We went on shore, 
and ascending a gentle acclivity, when, entering into a small log- 
house, 1 was astonished to see a woman preparing some excellent 
wild ducks for dinner; live in a log-house, and feed upon ducks! 
We passed into her garden, where, amid its rich variety, my atten- 
tion was arrested by a large peach-tree, loaded with the best fruit, 
bending to the earth ! 1 was beyond expression charmed and de- 
lighted, and my heart beat with grateful affection to the universal 
Parent, for giving the inhabitants of this new world thus liberally 
to enjoy. When we reached Philadelphia, I was amazed to behold 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



113 



a city of such magnitude, in a country, which I had considered as 
a wilderness. The captain supposed it a disappointment to me, 
that we had not put into New York, as that was the place of my 
destination : I requested him to make himself easy, as it was a 
matter of perfect indifference to me upon what part of the country 
I landed ; and, if he could procure me a private lodging, I would 
go on shore in this city. This he told me he would do, but this he 
could not do, at least in the circle of his connexions. He then pro- 
posed my going, by land, to New York. This also I was willing 
to do, if he would let me know how. He would send and take me 
a place in the stage. The stage had been gone some time. He 
then proposed I should tarry in the vessel, and set out with him 
the next morning for New York, to which arrangement I agreed. 
The other passengers left us in Philadelphia. The water was 
smooth, and our passage pleasant, until we were, as was supposed, 
near Sandy-Hook ; a dense fog then arose, which was sufficiently 
thick to prevent our seeing the end of our bowsprit. A sloop shot 
past us, and we inquired how far we were from Sandy-Hook ? 
The answer was seventy miles, but we understood seven, and we 
pressed on, and in a few moments were in the midst of the break- 
ers ; the vessel struck upon the bar, but passed over, into a place 
we afterwards learned was called Cramberry Inlet. The fog now 
dispersed, and we discovered we were nearly on shore ; our an- 
chors, however, saved us ; but we were greatly alarmed, and nev- 
er expected to get off again. The sloop, with which we had spok- 
en, entered this inlet before us, aud was light. The captain pro- 
posed to engage this sloop to receive on board as much of our car- 
go, as she could contain ; thus by lightening his vessel, to give 
himself the only probable chance of getting off. This was effectu- 
ated, and night coming on, the captain, with many apologies, re- 
quested me to lodge on board the sloop, inasmuch as there were 
many valuable articles, which he was afraid to trust, without a con- 
fidential person. To this I readily consented, and taking my Bible, 
and my purse, I went on board the sloop. The plan of the captain 
was, supposing the morning should present no prospect of getting 
off, to deposit the remainder of his cargo upon the beach ; but, if 
they should get off, we were immediately to follow ; the goods 
were to be replaced ; and the sloop dismissed. I went not to bed, 
and when the morning dawned, just at high water, the wind blow- 
ing from the shore, they got off', making a signal for us to follow ; 
and with all possible dispatch we prepared to obey, but the wind, 
instantly shifting drove us back, and they proceeded on to New 
York, leaving us in the bay. 

It proved, upon examination, we had no provisions onboard ; we 
were, therefore, necessitated to lock up the vessel, and go on shore, 
in search of sustenance. It was the after part of the day before we 
could effectuate our purpose, when I went with the boatmen to a 
tavern, and leaving them there, pursued a solitary walk through 
the woods, which seemed to surround this place. My mind was 



114 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



greatly agitated ; I was now in the new world ; and in just such a 
part of this new world, as had appeared so desirable in prospect. 
Here I was as much alone as I could wish, and my heart exclaim- 
ed : O, that 1 had, in this wilderness, the lodging place of a poor way- 
faring man ; some cave, some grot, some place where I might finish 
my days in calm repose. 

As thus I passed along, thus contemplating, thus supplicating, I 
unexpectedly reached a small log-house, and saw a girl cleaning a 
fresh fish ; 1 requested she would sell it to me. ' No, sir, you will 
find a very great plenty at the next house ; we want this.' The 
next house, what, this ? pointing to one in the woods. 1 O no, sir, 
that is a meeting-house.' A meeting-house here in these woods ? 
1 was exceedingly surprised. ' You must pass the meeting-house, 
sir ; and a little way farther on, you will see the other house, where 
you will find fish enough.' I went forward, I carae to the door ; 
there was indeed a large pile of fish of various sorts, and at a little 
distance stood a tall man, rough in appearance and evidently ad- 
vanced in years : Pray, sir, will you have the goodness to sell me 
one of those fish ? i No, sir.' That is strange, when you have so 
many, to refuse me a single fish ! ' I did not refuse you a fish, sir ; 
you are welcome to as many as you please, but I do not sell this 
article ; 1 do not sell fish, sir ; I have them for taking up, and you 
may obtain them the same way.' I thanked him : 1 But,' said he, 
4 what do you want of those fish ? ' I informedjiim, that the mari- 
ners, who belonged to the sloop at a distance, were at a tavern, and 
would be glad, if I could procure them something for supper. 
* Well, sir, I will send my man over with the fish ; but you can tar- 
ry here, and have some dressed for yourself.' No, sir, it is proper 
I should see how they are accommodated. ' Well, sir, you shall 
do as you please ; but, after supper, I beg you would return, and 
take a bed with us, you will be better pleased here, than at a tav- 
ern.' I gratefully thanked him, and cheerfully accepted his offer. 
I was astonished to see so much genuine politeness and urbanity, 
under so rough a form ; but my astonishment was greatly increas- 
ed on my return. His room was prepared, his fire bright, and his 
heart open. ' Come,' said he, ' my friend, I am glad you have re- 
turned, I have longed to see you, I have been expecting you a long 
time.' I was perfectly amazed. What do you mean, sir? ' I must go 
on in my own way, I am a poor ignorant man, I neither know how 
to read, nor write ; I was born in these woods, and my father did not 
think proper to teach me my letters. I worked on these grounds, 
until I became a man, when I went coasting voyages from hence 
to New York. I was then desirous of becoming a husband, but, 
in going to New York, I was pressed on board a man of war, and 
I was taken, in admiral Warren's ship to Cape Breton. I never 
drank any rum, so they saved my allowance ; but I would not bear 
an affront, so if any of the officers struck me, I struck them again ; 
but the admiral took my part, and called me his new-light man. 
When we reached Louisbourg, I ran away, and "travelled barefooted 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



115 



through the country, and almost naked, to New York, where I was 
known, and supplied with clothes and money, and soon returned 
to this place, when I found my girl married ; this rendered me ve- 
ry unhappy, but I recovered my tranquillity and married her sis- 
ter. I sat down to work ; got forward very last ; constructed a saw- 
mill ; possessed myself of this farm, and five hundred acres of ad- 
joining land. 1 entered into navigation, became the owner of a sloop, 
and have got together a large estate. 1 am, as I said, unable either 
to write or read, but I am capable of reflection ; the sacred scrip- 
tures have been often read to me, from which I gather, that there is 
a great and good Being, to whom we are indebted for all we enjoy. 
It is this great and good Being, who hath preserved, and protect- 
ed me, through innumerable dangers, and, as He had given me a 
house of my own, I conceived I could not do less than to open it 
to the stranger, let him be who he would ; and especially, if a trav- 
elling minister passed this way, he always received an invitation to 
put up at my house, and hold his meetings here. I continued this 
practice for more than seven years, and, illiterate as I was, I used 
to converse with them, and was fond of asking them questions. 
They pronounced me an odd mortal, declaring themselves at a loss 
what to make of me : while I continued to affirm, that I had but 
one hope ; 1 believed that Jesus Christ suffered death for my trans- 
gressions, and this alone was sufficient for me. At length my wife 
grew weary of having meetings held in her house, and I determin- 
ed to build a house for the worship of God. 

I had no children, and I knew 1 was beholden to Almighty God 
for every thing which I possessed ; and it seemed right, I should ap- 
propriate a part of what he had bestowed, for his service. My neigh- 
bors offered their assistance. But no, said I ; God has given me e- 
nough to do this work, without your aid, and, as he has put it into 
my heart to do, so will 1 do. And who, it was asked, will be your 
preacher ? I answered, God will send me a preacher, and of a very 
diff erent stamp from those who have heretofore preached in my house. 
The preachers we have heard are perpetually contradicting themselves 
but that God, who has put it into my heart to build this house, will 
send one who shall deliver unto me his own truth ; who shall speak 
of Jesus Christ and his salvation. When the house was finished, I 
received an application from the Baptists ; and I told them, if they 
could make it appear that God Almighty was a Baptist, the build- 
ing should be theirs at once. The Quakers, and Presbyterians, re- 
ceived similar answers. No, said I, as I firmly believe, that all 
mankind are equally dear to Almighty God, ihey shall all be e- 
qually welcome to preach in this house, which I have built. My 
neighbors assured me, I never should see a preacher, whose senti- 
ments corresponded with my own ; but my uniform reply was, that 
1 assuredly should. 1 engaged, the first year, with a man, who I 
greatly disliked ; we parted, and, for some years we have had no 
stated minister. My friends often ask me, * Where is the preacher 
of whom you spake ? ' And my constant reply has been, He will 



116 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



by and by make his appearance. The moment I beheld your ves- 
sel on shore, it seemed as if a voice had audibly sounded in my ears, 
There, Potter, in that vessel, castaway on that shore, is the preach- 
er you have been so long expecting. I heard the voice, and I be- 
lieved the report ; and when you came up to my door, and asked 
for the fish, the same voice seemed to repeat : Potter, this is the 
man, this is the person, whom! have-sent to preach in your house ! ' 

I was astonished, immeasurably astonished at Mr. Potter's narra- 
tive ; but yet I had not the smallest idea it could ever be realized. 
I requested to know, what he could discern in my appearance, 
which could lead him to mistake me for a preacher ? 'What,' 
said he, ' could I discern, when you were in the vessel, that could 
induce this conclusion ? No, sir, it is not what 1 saw, or see, but 
what I feel, which produces in my mind a full conviction.' 

But, my dear sir, you are deceived, indeed you are deceived ; I 
never shall preach in this place, nor any where else. 

' Have you never preached ? can you say you have never preach- 
ed ? ' I cannot, but I never intend to preach again. 

' Has not God lifted up the light of his countenance upon you ? 
Has he not shown you his truth ? ' 

I trust he has. 

' And how dare you hide this truth ? Do men light a candle to 
put it under a bushel ? If God has shown you his salvation, why 
should you not show it to your fellow-men ? But I know that you 
will ; 1 am sure God, Almighty has sent you to us for this purpose ; 
I am not deceived, I am sure 1 am not deceived.' 

I was terrified, as the man thus went on ; and I began to fear, 
that God, who orders all things according to the counsel of his own 
will, had ordained, that thus it should be, and my heart trembled 
at the idea. I endeavored, however, to banish my own fears, and 
to silence the warm-hearted man by observing, that I was in the 
place of a supercargo ; that property to a large amount had been 
entrusted to my care ; and that the moment the wind changed, I 
was under the most solemn obligations to depart. 

' The wind will never change, sir, until you have delivered to us, 
in that meeting-house, a message from God.' 

Sml 1 was resolutely determined never to enter any pulpit as a 
preacher ; yet, being rendered truly unhappy, 1 begged 1 might be 
shown to my bed. He requested 1 would pray with them, if I had 
no objection. 1 asked him how he could suppose I had any ob- 
jection to praying. The Quakers, he said, seldom prayed ; and 
there were others, who visited him, who were not in the habit of 
praying. I never propose prayer, sir, lest it should not meet with 
the approbation of those with whom I sojourn ; but I am always 
pleased when prayer is proposed to me. 1 prayed, and my heart 
was greatly enlarged and softened. When we parted for the night, 
my kind host solemnly requested that I would think of what he had 
said. Alas ! he need not to have made this request ; it was impos- 
sible to banish it from my mind. When I entered my chamber, 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



117 



Mid shut the door, I burst into tears; I would have given the world 
that. 1 had never left England. 1 felt as if the hand of God was in 
the events which had brought me to this place, and 1 prayed most 
ardently that God would assist and direct me by his counsel: I 
presented myself before Him, as a man bowed down by calamity ; 
a melancholy outcast, driven by repeated afflictions of body and of 
. mind to seek refuge in private life; to seek solitude amid the wilds 
of America: 'Thou knowest, said my oppressed spirit, thou know- 
est, O Lord, that if it had pleased thee, 1 would have prefened 
death, as the safest and most sure retreat ; but thou hast not seeh fit 
to inoulge my wishes in this respect. In thy providence thou hast 
brought me into this new world ; thou seest how I am oppressed 
by solicitations to speak unto the people the words of hie; thou 
knowest that I am not sufficient for these things; thou God of my 
fathers, thou God of the stranger, look with pity upon tite poor, 
lonely wanderer now before thee : O thou that sittest in the heav- 
ens, and rulest in the earth, and who assurest us that a hair of our 
Jiead cannot fall, unnoticed by thee ; O thou who kindly direetest 
us, thy poor dependent creatures, to acknowledge thee in all their 
ways, and to make their requests known unto thee in every time of 
affliction, behold thy poor dependant, supplicating thee lor thy kind 
direction and protection ; if thou hast indeed put it into the heart 
of thy servant to demand of me, the meanest and weakest of all to 
whom thou didst ever give power to believe in the name of thy 
Son, to declare unto him and the people of this place the gospel of 
thy grace ; O God ! in mercy prepare me, prepare me for so vast 
an undertaking, and let thy presence be with me ; strengthen me, 
O Lord, by thy mighty spirit. And if it be not thy pleasuie thus 
to employ me, — for thou, O God wilt send by whom thou wilt send, 
— graciously manifest thy will, that so 1 may not by any means be 
drawn into a snare. Thou art the sinner's friend, thou art the on- 
ly friend I have. To thee, O thou compassionate Father of my 
spirit, encouraged by thy gracious promises, I make application. 
Pity, O pity the destitute stranger ; leave me not, I most earnestly 
entreat thee, to my own direction. 

Thus did 1 pray, thus did 1 weep through the greater part of the 
night; dreading more than death, even supposing death an object 
of dread, the thought of engaging as a public character. On the 
one hand, 1 discovered, that if there be a ruling power, a superin- 
tending providence, the account given by the extiaordinary man 
under whose roof 1 reposed, evinced its operation ; that, it the heart 
of the creature be indeed in the hand of the Creator, it was mani- 
fest that God had disposed the heart of this man to view me as His 
messenger, sent for the purpose of declaring the counsel of his 
peace to his creatures. On the other hand, 1 recollected, thai the 
heart is deceitful above all things ; that the devices of the adveisa- 
ry are manilold : and that, had it been the will of God that J should 
have become a promulgator of the gospel of his grace, he would 
have qualified me lor an object of such infinite magnitude, it I tes- 



118 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



tified of Jesus according to the scriptures, I well knew upon what 
I must calculate ; the clergy of all denominations would unite to 
oppose me. For 1 had never met with any individual of that or- 
der, either in the Church of Rome, or elsewhere, who were believ- 
ers of the gospel that God preached unto Abraham, that, in Christ 
Jesus, all the families of the earth should be blessed ; nor did they, 
as far as I had known, embrace the ministry of reconciliation, com- 
mitted unto the apostles, namely, that God was, in Christ, reconcil- 
ing ihe world unto himself, not imputing unto them their trespasses ; 
nor did they acknowledge the restitution of all things, testified by all 
God's holy prophets, ever since the world began. To these doctrines 
1 supposed clergymen in this, as well as in the country I had left, 
united in their opposition ; and, convinced that there were no ene- 
mies in the world more powerful than the clergy, 1 trembled at the 
thought of stemming the full tide of their displeasure. 1 was per- 
suaded that people in general, being under the dominion of the 
clergy, w ould hate where they hated, and report what they report- 
ed. Acquainted in some measure with human nature, and with di- 
vine revelation, 1 was certain that if I appeared in the character of 
a real disciple of Christ Jesus; if I dared to declare the whole truth 
of God, all manner of evil w ould be said of me ; and, although it 
might be falsely said, while the inventor of the slander would be 
conscious of its falsehood, the majority of those who heard would 
yield it credit, and 1 should become the victim of their credulity. 

1 knew how Mr. Kelly had suffered in England, and the Apos- 
tles in Judea ; and being a believer in the testimony of God, I was 
assured, if my doctrines were the same, my treatment would be 
similar. All this rose to my view, and the prospect was tremen- 
dous. Thus 1 passed the night, and the ensuing morning witness- 
ed my indisposition both of body and mind. My good friend re- 
newed his solicitations. k Will you, sir, speak to me and to my 
neighbors of the things which belong to our peace ? ' Seeing only 
thick woods, the tavern across the held excepted, I requested to 
know what he meant by neighbors? 'O sir, we assemble a large 
congregation whenever the meeting-house is opened ; indeed, when 
my lather first settled here, he was obliged to go twenty miles to 
grind a bushel of corn ; but there are now more than seven hun- 
dred inhabitants within that distance.' 1 was amazed ; indeed eve- 
rything 1 saw, and everything 1 heard, amazed me ; nothing, exr 
cept the religion of the people, resembled what I had left behind. 

My mind continued subjected to the most torturing reflections. 
I could not bring myself to yield to the entreaties of Mr. Potter, 
and still 1 urged the necessity of departing, the moment tlie wind 
would answer. Mr. Potter was positive the wind would not change 
untii 1 had spoken to the people. Most ardently did 1 desire to 
escape the importunities ot this good man. The idea of a crowd, 
making a public exhibition of myself, was, to my desolate, wo-worn 
mind, intolerable ; and the suspense, in which I was heid, was 
perfectly agonizing. I could not forbear acknowledging an un- 



LIF3 OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



119 



common coincidence of circumstances. The hopes and fears of 
this honest man, so long in operation, yet he evinced great warmth 
of disposition, and was evidently tinctured with enthusiasm *, but, 
after making every allowance for these propensities, it could not be 
denied, that an over-ruling Power seemed to operate, in an unusual 
and remarkable manner. I could not forbear looking back upon the 
mistakes, made during our passage, even to the coming in to this 
particular inlet, where no vessel, of the size of the brig ' Haud-in- 
Hand,' had ever before entered ; every circumstance contributed to 
bring me to this house. Mr. Potter's address on seeing me ; his as- 
surance, that he knew I was on board the vessel, when he saw her 
at a distance ; all these considerations pressed with powerful convic- 
tion on my mind, and I was ready to say, If God Almighty has, in 
his providence, so ordered events, as to bring me into this country 
for the purpose of making manifest the savour of his name, and of 
bringing many to the knowledge of the truth ; though I would in- 
finitely prefer death, to entering into a character, which will sub- 
ject me to what is infinitely worse than death ; yet, as the issues of 
life and death are not under my direction, am I not bound to sub- 
mit to the dispensations of providence ? I wnshed, however, to be 
convinced, that it was the will of God, that I should step forth in a 
character, which would be considered as obnoxious, as truly detes- 
table. I was fully convinced, it was not by the will of the flesh, 
nor by the will of the world, nor by the will of the god of this 
world ; all these were strongly opposed thereto. One moment, I 
felt my resolution give way ; the path, pointed out, seemed to 
brighten upon me : but the next, the difficulties, from within and 
without, obscured the prospect, and 1 relapsed into a firm resolu- 
tion to shelter myself, in solitude, from the hopss, and fears, and 
the various contentions of men. 

While I thus balanced, the Sabbath advanced. T had ventured 
to implore the God, who had sometimes condescended to indulge 
individuals with tokens of his approbation, graciously to indulge 
me, upon this important occasion ; and that, if it were his will, that 
I should obtain the desire of my soul, by passing through life in a 
private character. If it were ?io£ his will, that I should engage as 
a preacher of the ministry of reconciliation, he would vouchsafe to 
grant me such a wind, as might bear me from this shore, before 
the return of another Sabbath. I determined to take the changing 
of the wind for an answer ; and, had the wind changed, it would 
have borne on its wings full conviction, because it would have cor- 
responded with my wishes. But the wind changed not, and Sat- 
urday morning arrived. ' Well,' said my anxious friend, ' now let 
me give notice to my neighbors.' No, sir, not yet; should the wind 
change in the middle of the afternoon, I must depart. No tongue 
can tell, nor heart conceive, how much I suffered this afternoon ; 
but the evening come on, and it was necessary I should determine ; 
and at last, with much fear and trembling, I yielded a reluctant 
consent. Mr. Potter then immediately dispatched his servants, on 



120 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



horseback, to spread the intelligence far and wide, and they were 
to continue their information, until ten in the evening. 

I had no rest through the night. What should I say, or how 
address the people? Yet I recollected the admonition of our 
Lord: ' Take no thought, what you shall say ; it shall be given you, 
in that same hour, what you shall say? Ay, but this promise was 
made to his disciples. Well, by this, [ shall know if I am a disci- 
ple. If God, in his providence, is committing to me a dispensa- 
tion of the gospel, He will furnish me with matter, without my 
thought or care. If this thing be not of God, He will desert me, 
and this shaU be another sign; on this, then, I rested. Sunday 
morning succeeded ; my host was in transports. I was — I cannot 
describe how I was. I entered the house; it was neat and conve- 
nient, expressive of the character of the builder. There were no 
pews; the pulpit was rather in the Quaker mode ; the seats were 
constructed with backs, roomy,, and even elegant. I said there 
were no pews ; there was one large square pew, just be fire the 
pulpit; in this sat the venerable man and his family, particular- 
friends, and visiting strangers. In this pew sat, upon this occasion, 
this happy man, and, surely, no man, upon this side of heaven was 
ever more completely happy. He looked up to th«s pulpit with 
eyes sparkling with pleasure ; it appeared to him, as the fulfilment 
of a promise long deferred ; and he reflected, with abundant con- 
solation, on the strong faith, which he had cherished, while his as- 
sociates would tauntingly question, ' Well, Potter, where is this 
minister, who is to be sent to you ?' ' He is coming along, in God's 
own good time.' ' And do you still believe any such preacher will 
visit you?' 'O yes, assuredly.' He reflected upon all this, and 
tears of transport filled his eyes; he looked round upon the people, 
and every feature seemed to say, 'There, what think you now ?' 
When I returned to his house, he caught me in his arms, 'Now, 
now, I am wiling to depart; Oh, my God ! I will praise thee ; thou 
bast granted me my desire. After this truth I have been seeking, 
but I have never found it, until now; I knew, that God, who put 
it into my heart to build a house for his worship, would send a ser- 
vant of his own to proclaim his own gospel. I knew he would ; 1 
knew the time wascoine, when I saw the vessel grounded; 1 knew 
you were the man, when I saw you approach my door, and my 
heart leaped for joy.' Visitors poured into the house ; he took each 
by the hand This is the happiest day of my life,' said the trans- 
ported man : 'There, neighbors, there is the minister God promis- 
ed to send me; how do you like God's minister;' I ran from the 
company, and prostrating myself before the throne of grace, be- 
sought my God to take me, and do with me whatever he pleased. 
I am, said I, I am, O Lord God, in thine hand, as clay in the hand 
of the potter. If thou, in thy providence, hast brought me into 
this new world to make known unto this people the grace and the 
blessings of the new covenant ; if thou hast thought proper, by 
making choice of so weak an instrument, to confound the wise ; if 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



121 



thou hast peen pleased to show to a babe, possessing neither wis- 
dom nor prudence, what thou hast hid from the wise and prudent, 
— be it so, O Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight. But, O 
my merciful God ! leave me not, I beseech thee, for a single mo- 
ment ; for without thee, 1 can do nothing. O, make thy strength 
perfect in my weakness, that the world may see that thine is the 
power, and that, therefore, thine ought to be the glory. Thus my 
heart prayed, while supplicating tears bedewed my face. 

I felt, however, relieved and tranquillized, for I had power giv- 
en me to trust in the Lord ; to stay upon the god of my salvation. 
Immediately upon my return to the company, my boatmen entered 
the house: 'The wind is fair, sir.'* Well, then, we will depart. 
It is late in the afternoon, but no matter, I will embark directly ; I 
have been determined to embrace the first opportunity, well know- 
ing the suspense the captain must be in, and the pain attendant 
thereon. Accordingly, as soon as matters could be adjusted, I set 
off ; but not till my old friend, taking me by the hand, said : * You 
are now going to New York ; I am afraid you will, when there, 
forget the man, to whom your Master sent you. But I do beseech 
you. come back to me again as soon as possible.' 

The tears gushed into his eyes, and, regarding me with a look, 
indicative of the strongest affection, he threw his arms around me, 
repeating his importunities, that I would not unnecessarily delay 
my return. I was greatly affected, reiterating the strongest assur- 
ances that I would conform to his wishes. Why should I not ? 
said I ; what is there to prevent me ? I do not know an individu- 
al in New York ; no one knows me-; what should induce me to 
tarry there ? ' Ah, my friend,' said he, 1 you will find many in New 
York, who will love and admire you, and they will wish to detain 
you in that city. But you have promised you will return, and I 
am sure you will perform your promise ; and in the mean time, may 
the God of heaven be with you.' Unable to reply, I hurried from 
his door ; and on entering the vessel, I found the good old man had 
generously attended, to what had made no part of my care, by ma- 

* The Rev. A. C. Thomas, of Philadelphia, in an account published 
by him of a visit to this place in the fall' of 1832, indulges 'in the follow- 
ing reflections : — ' Were all these circumstances the result of chance ? 
No. The confidence of Potter that the vessel he saw enter the Inlet 
contained the minister of whose coming, in due season, he had not the 
shadow of doubt — his solemn conviction that Murray was the man, and 
that the wind would not change until the message from God was de- 
livered — these things, considered in connexion with the result, firmly 
persuade me that the directing hand of Divine Providence is visible in 
the whole train of events. Let others believe differently, if they can — 
I cannot.' 

To this Mr. Thomas adds : — \ I must not forget to mention, that sev- 
eral aged persons with whom I conversed, remembered having heard 
the circumstances related by Murray in his 1 Life ' — but time was rap- 
idly defacing the impression.' T. W. 
11* 



122 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



king ample provision, both for me and the boatmen, during our lit- 
tle voyage. 

I retired to the cabin ; I had leisure for serious reflections, and 
serious reflections crowded upon me. I was astonished, I was lost 
in wonder, in love and praise : I Saw, as evidently as I could see 
any object visibly exhibited before me, that the good hand of God 
was in all these things. It is, I spontaneously exclaimed, it is the 
Lord's doings, and it is marvellous in my eyes. It appeared to me, 
that I could trace the hand of God, in bringing me, through a long 
chain of events, to such a place, to such a person, so evidently pre- 
pared for my reception ; and, while I acknowledged the will of 
God, manifested respecting my public character, I at the same mo- 
ment distinguished the kindness of God evinced by his indulging 
me with a retirement so exactly suited to my wishes. The house 
was neat, the situation enchanting, it was on the margin of the deep, 
on the side of an extensive bay, which abounded with fish of every 
description, and a great variety of water-fowl. On the other side 
of this dwelling, after passing over a few fields, (which at that time 
stood thick with corn,) venerable woods, that seemed the coevals 
of time, presented a 'scene for contemplation fit, towering, majestic, 
and filling the devotional mind with a religious awe.' I reflected, 
therefore, with augmenting gratitude to my heavenly Father, upon 
the pressing invitation, he had put into the heart of his faithful ser 
vantto give me; and I determined to hasten back to this delightful 
retreat, where nothing, but the grandeur of simple nature, exhibit- 
ed in the surrounding objects, and the genuine operations of the 
divine spirit on the heart of the hospitable master, awaited my ap- 
proach.* 

*' Cranberry Inlet,' says Mr. Thomas, in the account before referred 
to, ' was situated about GO miles east of Philadelphia. I say teas — for it 
was entirely filled up with sand many years ago, and the beach is now 
as high at that place as at any other in the vicinity, though not so wide. 

' 1 visited the house in which Potter lived and died. It is situated less 
than half a mile east of Good Luck. An addition has been built to it, 
and the appearance of the whole exterior is changed, but the interior 
remains as it was in the days of Potter. — It is a plain, substantial build- 
ing. I have been invited to make it my home when next I visit the 
neighborhood. 

'The meeting-house stands in the edge of a beautiful wood. The 
exterior presents an aged appearance ; but the interior, constructed of 
the best cedar, manifests no signs of decay. The ' large square pew, ' 
(of which Murray speaks) long occupied by Potter and his family, was 
removed about a year ago, and plain benches substituted. The pulpit 
has been somewhat cut f'own at either end. In other respects the 
building remains in its original state. It was left by will to John Mur- 
ray, for the use of all denominations. By the mismanagement of the 
executor, it became necessary to sell a part of the estate, to pay certain 
demands against it — of the injustice of which, however, the heirs enter- 
tained no doubt. In disposing of the property contiguous to Good 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



123 



I had not the least idea of tarrying in New- York a moment long- 
er, than to seethe captain, deliver up my charge, and receive my 
baggage, and I resolved to return, by the first opportunity, to my 
benevolent friend. And thus did I make up my mind : Well, if 
it be so, I am grateful to God, that the business is thus adjusted. 
If I must be a promulgator of these glad, these vast, yet obnox- 
ious tidings, I shall however be sheltered in the bosom of friendship, 
in the bosom of retirement. I will employ myself on the grounds 
of my friend, thus earning my own support, and health will be a 
concomitant; while 1 will preach the glad tidings of salvation, free 
as the light of heaven. The business, thus arranged, 1 became 
reconciled to the will of the Almighty, and I Commenced, with 
tolerable composure, another, and very important, stage of my 
various life. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Record continued from the September of 1770 to the winter of 1774. 

1 Armed with the sword of Jesse's youthful son, 
Engaged with ardor in the freedom won 
By Christ, the anointed God of earth and heaven, 
Dare, nobly, Murray, tell the boon that 's given.' 

Motto by a Friend. 

Behold me now entering upon a new stage of the journey of 
life, a professed preacher of the gospel. Of my inability for an un- 
dertaking so vast, I retained a continued and depressing sense ; but 
I determined to be as consistent and as useful as possible ; I would 
be an assistant to my new friend in his agricultural and fishing em- 
ployments; and, upon every returning Sunday I would preach to 
him the truth as it is in Jesus. I had not the most remote idea of 

Luck, no reservation of the meeting-house was made in the deed. It 
was subsequently purchased by the Methodist society, who have it now 
in possession. Should they hereafter evince an exclusive spirit in re- 
lation to its occupancy, their title may justly be called in question. 

' Thomas Potter died nearly forty years ago. His grave, at the east 
end of the meeting-house, was pointed out to me by one of the oldest 
inhabitants in the neighborhood. Owing to inattention and the sandy 
nature of the soil, it was long ago levelled with the adjacent ground. 
It was enclosed soon after his burial — but the fence was broken down 
some twenty years ago — and two posts and a rail, very much decayed, 
are all that remain. The oak of which Murray speaks, ('Sketches,' 
vol. i. p 336) no longer exists. I have obtained permission to re-inclose 
the grave, and erect a tomb-stone to his memory.' T. W. 



124 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ever preaching anywhere but in the house which he had built ; and 
thus I should questionless be indulged with the retirement which 
had been the prime object of my voyage. Thus consolatory were 
my reflections upon my passage to New York ; at which place I 
arrived about noon, upon the ensuing day. I inquired for the cap- 
tain, delivered up my charge, took my baggage from the brig Hand- 
in-hand, and secured a lodging, until 1 could obtain a passage back 
to the hospitable mansion 1 had left. But the day had not closed 
in before a number of persons visited me, earnestly soliciting me to 
speak to them of the things of the kingdom! I was immeasurably* 
astonished ; totally a stranger in the city, I could scarcely believe 1 
was not in a dream. The boatman, however, having given an ac- 
count of me on their arrival, the intelligence was wafted from one 
end of the city unto the other ; and the people being anxious to- 
hear something new, and from a new preacher, became extremely 
importunate. I could not deny that I had preached ; but I gave the 
solicitors to understand that I had absolutely engaged to return by 
the first opportunity, and that of course I was not at liberty to com- 
ply with their request. They promised they would insure me a 
speedy and eligible conveyance, if I would consent to give them a 
discourse in the Baptist meeting-house ; and it became impossible 
to resist their persuasions. The house was thronged, and the hear- 
ers so well satisfied, as to solicit, most earnestly, my continuance 
among them. But this I was not disposed to do; this I could not 
do ; my word, my honor was engaged to my first American friend ; 
and, when duty is seconded by inclination, perseverance becomes 
a matter of course. Upwards of a week elapsed, before the earnest- 
ly sought-for passage presented, during which period I frequently 
preached, and to crowded houses. I was gratified by the marked 
attention of many characters. Novelty is rarely destitute of attrac- 
tion. Even the minister extended to me the hand of apparent 
friendship; which I accounted for upon a supposition, that he was 
ignorant of my testimony. I made use of the same scriptures, which 
he made use of ; and he was not apprized, that I yielded them 
unqualified credence. I had no doubt, that, so soon as he should 
be informed, that I believed what I delivered, he would condemn, as 
much as he now appeared to approve. Yet some few there were,, 
firm, unchanging friends, whose attachment to me, and my testi- 
mony, has to this moment continued unbroken. So soon as an 
opportunity to return presented, 1 very cheerfully embraced it ;. 
and I felt rny heart bound with pleasure, at the thought of that 
meeting, which a few days before, I would have died to avoid. 
The charming retreat, in the gift of my friend, was, in my estima- 
tion, highly preferable to New York, and all which it could bestow: 
and I longed most earnestly to quit the one, and to return to the 
other. A number of friends accompanied me to tlie vessel, and we 
parted, with expressions of regret. A single day produced me 
again in the abode of genuine, Christian friendship ; to which I 
was welcomed with every demonstration of heart-felt joy. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



125 



Here, then, I considered I had found a permanent home ; that a 
final period was at length put to my wanderings ; and after all my 
apprehensive dread, from being drawn into the public character, 
now, that I had a prospect of sustaining this public character, in so 
private a manner, I was not only reconciled, but tranquillized, and 
happy. I had leisure to retrospect my past life, and 1 was filled 
with astonishment when I beheld all the various paths, which I 
had trod, ultimately leading me to a uniform contemplation of 
redeeming love; nor could I forbear exclaiming, Great and mar- 
vellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ! just and true are thy 
ways, O thou King of saints! 

The winter now approached, and with hasty strides; my 
worthy friend was diligently gathering in the fruits of the earth. 
I was disposed to aid him, to the utmost of my abilities. He 
could not bear the thought of my laboring in the field. 'Why 
need you ? have you not enough to engage your attention, in the 
business on which you are sent?' Believe me, my friend, my 
employment, in your field, will not interrupt my reflections. I can 
study better in the field, than in my chamber; it requires but little 
study to deliver simple, plain, gospel truth ; to pervert this truth, 
requires a vast deal of worldly wisdom. Let me, my dear Sir, do 
as I please ; I have fixed upon a plan, with which you shall be 
acquainted, when the labors of the day are closed. In the even- 
ing, when the cheerful fire blazed upon the hearth, and we were' 
seated in the well-lighted parlor: 'Come/ said the good man, 
'now for your plan.' I think, my dear sir, said I, I am at length 
convinced, that God in his providence has thought proper to 
appoint me, however unworthy, to the ministry of the New 
Testament ; and while persuaded that our common Father has 
committed a dispensation of the gospel to me, and that a wo is pro- 
nounced against me, if I preach it not, it will be impossible I 
should remain silent: but knowing, as I do, something of the 
nature of man, and of the situation of preachers, in general, I am, 
for myself determined not to make a gain of godliness ; I will 
make no provision for myself. I have abundance of clothing; and 
as to food, I will eat of whatever is set before me, asking no ques- 
tions, either for the sake of conscience, or appetite ; and for my 
drink, nothing is so salutary for me, as cold water. 1 am persuad- 
ed, I shall not live long in this world ; at least, I hope I shall not. 
I am alone in the world ; I shall want but little here, ' nor want 
that little long.' I reject, then, with my whole soul, I reject, the 
liberal offer, you so recently made me, of a fixed stipend. I will 
have no salary, I will have no collections, I will preach the gospel, 
freely. I will work in you- fields, I will eat at your table, I will 
slake my thirst at the limpid stream which furnishes your family ; but 
you shall make no change in the order of your house, on my 
account. I will associate with your associates. I expect to meet 
them, at the table of my great Lord and Master, in mansions be- 
yond the grave ; and shall 1 hesitate to meet them, upon equal 



126 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



terms, in this lower world? I am pleased with your situation 
with your house of worship; with your neighbors ; with every- 
thing I am pleased; and if that God, who brought me hither, will 
graciously vouchsafe to indulge me with the privilege of tarrying 
here, until I am liberated from this body of sin and death, I shall 
be still better pleased. 

The good old man could no longer suppress his feelings. He 
arose from his seat, caught me in his arms, essayed to speak, pois- 
ed, and at length exclaimed, 'O my God, is it possible? Why 
such, I have thought ministers of Jesus Christ ought to be.' But, 
my friend, I replied, every minister of Jesus Christ cannot live, as 
I can. I have no family, no home, no want. If I had a family, I 
should be worse than an infidel, not to make provisions for my 
household; but God, by separating me from my beloved compan- 
ion, and my cherub boy, has enabled me to preach the gospel, 
freely. I never saw any man so delighted, and especially with my 
determination to continue with him. Dear, kind-hearted man, 
both he, and I, then believed, that death only could separate 
us. In a place, so remote from the world, I imagined f should 
enjoy, uninterruptedly, every wish of my heart; and again and 
again I felicitated myself in the prospect of finishing my weary 
life in this sweet, this calm retreat, unincumbered by care, — con- 
ferring, as well as receiving, benefits, — nobly independent, — pos- 
sessing all which the treacherous world could now bestow. Thus 
I went on,— pleased, and pleasing. 1 had leisure for converse 
with myself, with my Bible, and my God. The letters of my 
Eliza were a source of mournfully pensive consolation, — they 
were multiplied, — and I had carefully preserved them. Many a 
time have I shed over them the private, the midnight tear ; and 
reading them thus late, when I had fallen into a sweet slumber, I 
have met the lovely author in my dreams, and our meeting has 
been replete with consolation, with such high intercourse, as can 
only be realized in heaven. Our Sundays were indeed blessed 
holy days; people began to throng from all quarters on horseback ; 
some from the distance of twenty miles. I was at first pleased 
with this; so was my patron; but multiplied invitations to visit 
other places, saddened our spirits. I dreaded the thought of de- 
parting from home, and, in the fulness of my heart, I determined I 
would never accede to any request, which should bear me from a 
seclusion* so completely commensurate with my wishes. Alas! 
alas! how little do we know of ourselves, or our destination. So- 
licitations, earnest solicitations, poured in from the Jersies, from 
Philadelphia, and from New York ; and it became impossible to- 
withstand their repeated and imposing energy. 

* Thomas Potter died not far from the year 1790. The feelings of 
Mr. Murray, in visiting this retreat after the death of that highly be- 
nevolent individual, and his account of the character of his friend, may 
be found in brackets in the seventh chapter of this work. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



127 



The first visit I made, was to a village about eight miles from 
my late found home. My patron accompanied me, and we were 
joyfully received, by a serious and respectable family, who embrac- 
ed, with devout hearts, the truth, as it is in Jesus ; and who were 
consequently saved from all those torturing fears, that had pre- 
viously harrowed up their spirits, in the dread expectation ol iliose 
everlasting burnings, which they believed awaited themselves and 
their offspring. 

In this village, I one morning entered a house, and beheld a fond 
mother w ? eeping over an infant, who lay sweetly sleeping in her 
arms. Sympathy for the sorrowing mother moistened my eye ; 
and, supposing that her tears flowed from some domestic di&iress, 
or pecuniary embarrassment, 1 endeavored to console her by ob- 
serving that the world was very wide, and that God was an all-suffi- 
cient Father. ' Alas ! sir,' she replied, ' i never, in the whole course 
of my life, experienced a moment's anxiety from the dread oi my 
children, or myself, suffering the want either of food, or raiment .No, 
sir, my fears are, that they will be sufferers through the wakeless 
ages of eternity, in that state of torment, from whence there is no 
reprieve ; and that they w ill continually execrate their parents, as the 
wretched instruments of bringing them into being. Ihavt eight 
children, sir ; and can I be so arrogant, as to believe that all these 
children are elected to everlasting life % ' But, my dear lad} , you 
have reason to believe that they will be saved, whether they be 
elected or not, because Christ Jesus is the Saviour of all men. This 
did not satisfy her. I took up the Bible, which lay upon her desk, 
and the first scripture, which met my view, was the 127th i - aim. 
1 glanced my eye upon the 3d verse of that Psalm: k Lo clu dren 
are the heritage of the Lord, and the fruit of the womb is his re- 
ward.' I did not recollect this passage ; it was the first time ii had 
met my particular observation ; but it has ever since been right 
precious to my soul. I merely opened the Bible, in the expectation 
of finding something to soothe a sorrowing mother, and this most 
pertinent passage broke upon me, with unequalled splendor, i was 
myself astonished, arid presenting the sacred passage, I remarked : 
Ihere, madam, God has sent you, for your consolation, this (. vine 
discovery. You have been unhappy, because you did not know 
that your children were God's children, and that He loved them as 
well, yea, infinitely better, than you can pretend to Jove them. Nay, 
look at the passage ; you see your children are the heritage of God, 
they are his reward ; will He give His heritage to His advei ury ? 
or will He suffer him to seize any part thereof if He has sufficient 
power to prevent it ? Again and again, the fond mother pi used 
the passage ; gradually her countenance changed, and the . uuds 
dispersed ; a hood of tears burst trom her eyes; she brightened up, 
and, pressing her babe to her maternal bosom, rapturously ex- aim- 
ed : -Blessed, blessed God, they are not mine;, they are U. e, O 
Almighty Father; and thou wilt not be regardless of thine ,wn!' 
I never saw more joy in consequence of believing, than 1 then be- 



128 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



held. Ten years afterwards, T again saw this parent, and asked 
her, what she thought of her children ? Blessed be God, said she, 
they are God's children ; and I have never had an unhappy mo- 
ment respecting their future state, since my Redeemer has been 
graciously pleased to make known unto me his soul-satisfying truth. 
No, sir, my spirit is not now a sorrowing spirit. 

Again a letter was handed me from New- York, earnestly entreat- 
ing in3 to pay them a visit. Arrangements were made for my pas- 
sage in the vessel by which I received the solicitation. To a sum- 
mons so pressing, 1 dared not turn a deaf ear. In fact, a revolution 
had taken place in my mind. It appeared to me, that lwas highly 
reprehensible in thus withdrawing myself from the tour of duty, 
wnich seemed appointed for me; and I determined never to seek, 
directly or indirectly, lor an open door, and never again refuse en- 
tering any door which Providence should open. It is true, I never 
wished to receive an invitation ; but 1 was aware, that the direction 
of me and my movements were in the hands of infinite wisdom ; 
and promising my benevolent host, that 1 would return as soon as 
possible, I departed for New-York. My reception surpassed my 
expectations, and even my wishes. Many persons, anxious to de- 
tain me in their city, went so far, as to hand about a subscription- 
paper, for the purpose of building lor me a house of public worship. 
It was completely filled in one day, when application was made to 
me to abide with them continually. 1 urged my absolute promise 
given, and my inclination, prompting my return to Good Luck, the 
name of the place where my friend Potter dwelt. They were as- 
tonished at my determination to reside in such a place, when the city 
of New- York was opening its arms to receive me ; but on my repeat- 
ing the circumstances, attendant upon my arrival there, they seem- 
ed disposed to acquiesce, and to acknowledge the good hand of 
God outstretched lor my direction. The Baptist meeting-house 
was again open to me, and the congregations were very large ; my 
friends multiplied very fast, and 1 became gradually attached to 
this city. Yet 1 ardently desired to return to the home of my 
choice ; and after spending a lew weeks in New-York, 1 once more 
hailed my providential residence ; numbers of warm-hearted friends 
accompanying me, as before, even to the vessel's side, where they 
offered up to heaven their most fervent prayers in my behalf My 
heart was greatly afiiected ; 1 was warmly attached to many in New- 
York. The lamily of Col. Darke, and many others now no more, 
were very ('.ear to me. 

1 reached home in good health, and was received with great joy ; 
even the servants seemed to participate the benevolence of their 
master. In fact, having nothing in the habitation of my friend to 
render me uneasy, my mind became more tranquil than it had been 
for many years , and, at peace in my own breast, I consequently 
contributed to the happiness of all around me. Thus I continued 
in undisturbed repose, until a Baptist minister from New Jersey, 
believing my sentiments precisely in unison with his own, conceiv- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



129 



ed a strong affection for me. He solicited me to become a mem- 
ber of his church, that I might obtain a license from their associa- 
tion. Of course, I declined his friendly offers ; for I well knew, 
when he discovered I really believed the gospel which I preached, 
uniting with his brethren, he would be as anxious to exclude me 
from his synagogue, as he now was to receive me. He pressed me, 
however, to visi; him, which I did, accompanied by my patron, 
who, to his great mortification, was necessitated to leave me there. 
In this gentleman's pulpit I preached ; I lodged in his house ; 
and received from him every mark of attention, until my unbend- 
ing refusal of all collections, and the partiality of his friends, visi- 
bly diminished his regard. I had calculated upon this change, 
and it did not therefore astonish me. He was, however, a warm- 
hearted man, and as sincere as men in general are. In this place 
I was introduced to many worthy characters, who, as a part of the 
election, obtained a knowledge of truth, as it is in Jesus ; among 
the rest was a justice Pangbrun, a venerable old gentleman, who 
had for many years been considered by his brethren, as an oracle. 
This gentleman heard me, and discovered that my testimony was 
not in unison with the teaching to which he had listened. He 
became sedulously intent upon detecting my errors, and he soon 
discovered I was wrong, and as soon, kindly endeavored to set me 
right; but, as there was no other way of effectuating his wishes, 
but by the word of God,—fbr I refused all other authority, — he 
was soon convinced, upon searching the sacred writings for proofs 
of my heresy, that it was he himself; who had wandered from that 
precious truth once delivered to the saints. Without hesitation, he 
renounced his former views, and continued ever after an able and 
zealous advocate for the truth, preached by Abraham. It was now 
noised abroad, that I was an erroneous teacher. The clergyman, 
who was so warmly attached to me, while he believed me a Cal- 
vinistic Baptist, now commenced a most inveterate adversary ; and 
his opposition published more extensively my name, and peculiar 
tenets. Curiosity was excited, and I became the object of general 
inquiry. It is a melancholy truth, that esteem, and consequent 
friendship, are not generally so operative upon the human mind, 
as rancor and enmity : my experience is in unison with this ob- 
servation. I hastened back to my calm retreat; alas! it was no 
longer my peaceful home, — for, although no change had taken 
place in the house of my friend, yet the influence of my clerical 
enemy pursued me. Opposition, however, begat opposition ; and, 
while 1 was hated by the many, I was loved and caressed by the 
few. Solicitations to preach were multiplied from every quarter, 
and, although there was no abatement in the attachment of my 
patron, yet the estrangement of some individuals in our vicinity, 
diminished the difficulty of accepting invitations, and I was induc- 
ed to visit a few warm-hearted individuals, in the neighborhood of 
my implacable foe. Upon my arrival there, I discovered a want, of 
which 1 had not until then been conscious : I wanted a horse. A 



130 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



single hint was sufficient ; a horse was immediately procured, and, 
so ardent was the affection of my adherents, that I could not ex- 
press a wish, which they were not eager to gratify ; but my wishes 
were very much bounded, and my wants few and simple. 

An invitation from Philadelphia being frequently and earnestly 
repeated, 1 repaired to that city ; a respectable circle of friends 
awaited me there. The Baptist minister invited me to his house, 
and his pulpit. He questioned me in private, and, in the course of 
our conversation, he frequently repeated : ' Christ, in us, the hope of 
glory. I ventured to ask, Pray, sir, what do you understand by 
Christ, in us, the hope of glory ? 'Why, sir, in looking into my 
heart, I find something in it, which I had not some years ago.' 
Do you, sir, call this something, Christ? 'Undoubtedly.' But, 
sir, all the angels of God worship Christ ; all the ends of the earth 
are admonished to look unto Christ and be saved; we are 
exhorted to trust in him at all times; and to believe, that there 
is no other name given under heaven, among men, whereby we 
can be saved. Now, my good sir, suffer me to ask, would it be 
safe for angels in heaven, or men upon earth, to worship that 
something, you have in your heart, which you had not there some 
years ago ? would it be safe for all the ends of the earth, or any of 
the inhabitants of the world, to look to that something for salva- 
tion ? could I, or any other person, trust, at all times, to that some- 
thing ? 1 Then, sir, if this be not Christ, what can the passage I 
have cited mean ? ' Certainly, sir, this cannot be the Christ Paul 
preached. The Christ Paul preached, was crucified; he was 
buried ; he arose ; he ascended ; and the heavens must contain 
him, until the time of the restitution of all things. 'But how then 
is it that this Christ can be in us the hope of glory % ' Why, sir, the 
Christian has no other hope of glory, than Jesus Christ, entered 
within the vail; and this Saviour is, in his heart, the object of his 
trust, confidence, and affection. You have, sir, as I understand, a 
beloved wife in Europe ; but, although the Western ocean rolls 
between you, yet you may say, she is ever in your heart, and no 
one would be at a loss to understand you ; but if you were to tell 
them, your conjugal affection was your wife, they would stare at 
you ; and yet it would be as proper to say, your conjugal affection 
was your wife, as to say your love to God, or any other good, 
and proper propensity, was your Christ. No, my dear sir, these 
are not that Christ, the things of which, the Spirit of truth taketh, 
and showeth them to men, as the matter of their rejoicing. The 
Christ, of whom you speak, can be no other than the false Christ; 
that is, something which is called Christ, but is not Christ. The 
Chiist, of whom you speak, as your hope of glory, was never seen 
by anybody, and is itself nobody. It neither suffered for your sins, 
nor rose for your justification ; and it is therefore most unworthy 
to be held in reverence. This conversation, as may be supposed, 
made this gentleman exceeding angry ; and I was not a little sur- 
prised to hear him, although he immediately broke up the confer- 
ence, insist upon my coming the ensuing day (Sunday), according 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



131 



to promise, to preach in his pulpit. The intelligence ran through 
the city, that I was to preach in the Baptist meeting-house, and 
numbers flocked to hear. I came, I entered the parlor of the rev- 
erend gentleman ; many of the members of his church were pre- 
sent, and a young candidate for the ministry. The gentleman, 
who invited me, and who repeated his invitation on parting with 
me, arose, and throwing upon me a most indignant glance, took 
the young gentleman by the hand, and led him into the meeting- 
house, which was adjoining to his dwelling, leaving me standing 
in his parlor. I now perceived, why he had insisted upon my 
coming to preach for him. But it was not wonderful ; I had 
spoken contemptibly of his Christ, and he took rank among my 
inveterate foes ; yet I had, among his connexions, a few friends, 
who, indignant at the treatment I had received, redoubled their 
caresses. There was at this time a small company who assembled 
at a place, known by the name of Bachelor's Mali; they were un- 
acquainted with the truth I delivered ; yet, willing to hear for 
themselves, they invited me to preach for then!. Halting between 
two opinions, they solicited aid from a minister of another persua- 
sion ; and they requested me to hear him, to which I readily con- 
sented. The preacher selected his text. 'Behold the Lamb of 
God, who taketh away the sin of the luorld? He commenced his 
comment: ' My friends, I shall undertake to prove, that Jesus never 
did, nor never will take away the sin of the world.' I was aston- 
ished, and the persons, asking my attendance, were abashed. The 
preacher added: 'It is impossible Christ can have taken away the 
sin of the world, for then all the world must be saved.' This was 
unquestionable; I was exceedingly gratified, and the more, as this 
sermon, intended for my confusion, did much to establish that 
truth, of which, by the grace of God, I was a promulgator. 

The combined efforts of the clergy in Philadelphia barred 
against me the door of every house of public worship in the city. 
Bachelor's Hall was in Kensington. But ( at Bachelor's Hall the 
people attended, and a few were enabled to believe the good word 
of their God. There was in the city, a minister of the Seventh- 
day Baptist persuasion ; for a season he appeared attached to me, 
but soon became very virulent in his opposition. He told me he 
passed on foot nine miles, upon the return of every Saturday, to 
preach. 1 asked him, how many his congregation contained ? 
4 About an hundred.' How many of this hundred do you suppose 
are elected to everlasting life ? ' I cannot tell.' Do you believe 
fifty are elected ? 'Oh no, nor twenty.' Ten perhaps? 'There 
may be ten.' Do you think the non-elect can take any step to 
extricate themselves from the tremendous situation, in which the 
decrees of Heaven have placed them ? ' Oh no, they might as 
well attempt to pull the stars from the firmament of heaven.' And 
do you think your preaching can assist them ? ' Certainly not ; 
every sermon they hear will sink them deeper and deeper in dam- 
nation.' And so, then, you walk nine miles every Saturday, to 



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LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



sink ninety persons out of a hundred deeper and deeper in never- 
ending misery ! 

Reports, injurious to my peace, were now very generally circu- 
lated ; and although I expected all manner of evil would be said 
of me falsely, for his sake, whose servant I was, yet did the shafts 
of slander possess a deadly power, by which 1 was sorely wounded. 
Had the poisoned weapon been aimed by characters, wicked in the 
common acceptation of the word, it would have fallen harmless ; 
nay, the fire of their indignation would have acted as a purifier of 
my name ; but reports, originating from those, who were deemed 
holy and reverend — alas! their bite was mortal. Again 1 sighed 
for retirement, again I hastened to the bosom of my patron, and 
again my reception was most cordial. Yet, although so much evil 
was said of me, many, glancing at the source, made candid deduc- 
tions, and were careful to proportion their acts of kindness to the 
magnitude of my wrongs. Invitations met me upon the road, and, 
wafted upon the wings of fame, I could enter no town, or village, 
which my name had not reached in which I did not receive good 
and evil treatment. The clergy and their connexions were gener- 
ally inveterate enemies ; while those, who had will and power to 
act for themselves, and chanced to be favorably impressed, were 
very warm in their attachments. Thus my friends were very cor- 
dial, and my enemies very malignant ; and as my enemies were 
generally at a distance, and my friends at my elbow, but for officious 
individuals, who brought me intelligence of all they heard, I might 
have gone on my way with abundant satisfaction. At Brunswick, 
which I had been earnestly solicited to visit, I was received into a 
most worthy family. The Rev. Mr. Dunham was of the Seventh- 
day Baptist persuasion ; a man of real integrity, who, although he 
could not see, as I saw, threw open the doo s of his meeting-house ; 
conducted me into his pulpit, and discharged toward me, in every 
particular, the duty of a Christian. His neighbor, a clergyman, 
who was a First-day Baptist, exhibited a complete contrast to Mr. 
Dunham. He invited me, it is true, to his house, asked me to 
lodge there; we conversed together, prayed together, he appear- 
ed very kind, and much pleased, and I believed him my confirmed 
friend, until, leaving Brunswick, I called upon some, whose de- 
portment to me was the reverse of what it had been. I demanded 

a reason ; when they frankly informed me, that the Rev. Mr. > 

had made such representations, as had destroyed all the pleasure 
they had been accustomed to derive from my presence. This affect- 
ed me beyond expression, a stranger as I was; and suffering in the 
dread of what, I had to expect, I turned from the door of those de- 
ceived persons, without uttering a word. I quitted their habitations 
forever; invidious remarks were made upon my silence ; but of 
these I was careless ; on other occasions I might have been affected, 
but treachery from a man, who had entertained me so hospitably, 
and who stood so high in the ranks of piety, shocked me beyond 
the power of utterance. Upon the afternoon of this day, on which 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



133 



I had been so deeply hurt, I was engaged to deliver my peaceful 
message in the pulpit of Mr. Dunham, in the vicinity of this perfid- 
ious man. Some time had elapsed since I had seen him, and I 
then met him upon the road ; he advanced toward me with an ex- 
tended hand, and a countenance expressive of Christian affection ; 
' You are a great stranger, sir ? ' Yes, sir, I am a stranger, and so- 
journer, in every place, as all my fathers were before me. 'Well, 
how have you been since I saw you ? ' Thanks be to God, I have 
been preserved, and owned, and blessed, notwithstanding the slan- 
ders of the adversary, and his agents. He saw he was detected, and 
he determined immediately to drop the mask. ' Well, I will do all 
in my power to obstruct your progress, in every place.' Had you, 
sir, made this declaration at au earlier period, I should at least have 
believed you an honest man. But to pass yourself upon me as my 
friend, while you were aiming at me a vital stab ! Oh sir, I am as- 
tonished at you. ' And I am more astonished at you. Do you not 
tremble, when you think that God must have a quarrel with you ? 
and that all his ministers in America hate you ? ' Sir, I do not be- 
lieve my Creator is a quarrelsome Being, neither do I credit the in- 
formation, that all God's ministers hate me ; a minister of God is 
incapable of hating any human being. 'But are you not confound- 
ed, when you consider, that you must be right, and we wrong ; or 
you wrong, and all God's ministers right ? Surely, it is more prob- 
able we should be all right, and you wrong, than you right, and we 
all wrong.' I have no apprehensions upon this head : some one 
might have questioned in the days of Elijah, when he was opposed 
by eight hundred and fifty prophets : ' Do you not tremble to see 
all these holy, and reverend priests on one side, and you alone on 
the other ? either they must be wrong, and you right, or you wrong, 
and they right.' So in Jerusalem, our divine Master might have 
been asked : 'Are you not appalled at beholding all the ministers 
of God, all the rulers of the people, in opposition ? Either they 
must be wrong, and you right, or you wrong, and they right ; and 
which, pray, is the most probable ? ' And the people might have 
been asked : ' Have any of our rulers believed on him ? He is a 
devil, and mad, why hear ye him ? ' 'I am astonished at your dar- 
ing blasphemy, in comparing yourself, either to Elijah or Christ.' 
Why, was not Elijah a man of like passions with us ? and are we 
not taught to put on the Lord Jesus Christ ? Who is it that asks, If 
they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub ? what ought 
the servants of his household to expect ? Elijah is a member in the 
same body with me ; but the Redeemer is still nearer ; He is my 
head, the head of every man ; He indulges me with the privilege 
of denying myself, my sinful self, and he allows me to acknowledge 
no other than his blessed self; that, thus standing in his name, 1 
may stand in the presence of the Father, the Divinity, with exceed- 
ing joy ; that, asking in the name of his immaculate humanity, I 
may be sure to receive, that my joy may be full. Nor can all that 
you, nor any one else can say, be able to shake me from this my 



134 



LIFE OF REV, JOHN MURRAY. 



strong hold. 'Ay, perhaps you may he mistaken— you may be de- 
ceived.' If I am deceived, 1 am deceived ; but I will venture. ' You 
know this is not the privilege of all ; and therefore it may not be yours. 
I do not know that this is not the privilege of all but if it be of any, it is 
of the believer ; and, as 1 believe it must be mine. They shall, said my 
divine Master, say all manner of evil of you, falsely. You, sir, have 
been in Brunswick, fulfilling this scripture ; and I rejoice that I have 
made the discovery. You can never deceive me again ; but as I 
am not naturally suspicious, others may obtain a lease of my good 
opinion, from which they will never, but upon the strongest convic- 
tion, be ejected. I left this good man beyond measure enraged ; and 
no doubt, believing he should really render God service, by doing 
me the most essential injury. I immediately repaired to the pulpit 
of my friend Dunham, where, preaching peace, I recovered my lost 
serenity; and it gladdened my heart to believe, that the inveterate 
ensmy, with whom I had parted upon the road, was included in 
the redemption it was my business to proclaim. 

But now again, my heart failed me — again I sickened at the pros- 
pect before me, and my whole soul, revolting from a continuance 
in public life, I once more fled to my beloved, my sequestered home. 
I sighed ardently for my emancipation. Of that God, who was, in 
Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, I entertained not the 
smallest dread. But my coward spirit trembled before a combina- 
tion of religious characters, headed by the clergy, and armed for my 
destruction. Their zeal was manifested by their industriously prop- 
agating a variety of evil reports. I would detail them, were they 
not so numerous. And, although all manner of evil had not yet been 
said of me, enough was said to implant a dread of some overwhelm- 
ing termination. Thus my aversion to the path, into which I had 
been pressed, became more imposing. I was ready to say, Lord, 
send, by whom thou wilt send, and, in mercy vouchsafe to grant me 
my final exit from those surrounding scenes, which embosom the 
retirement of my friend. 

Often have I wept, as I traversed the woods and groves of my 
patron, at the thought, that I could be indulged with the felicity of 
passing the remainder of my days amid those sylvan scenes ; espe- 
cially as it was the wish of the liberal master, that I should so do. 
I became apprehensive, that my trials, in this new world, would 
surpass those, which I encountered in the old. These agonizing 
anticipations prostrated me before the throne of the Almighty, im- 
ploring his protection ; and from this high communication with my 
Father God, my griefs have been assuaged and my wounded spirit 
healed. Urged by a strong sense of duty, J again visited Upper 
Freehold, to which place I had been repeatedly summoned. My 
acquaintance there was large and respectable, but it was the resi- 
dence of a high -priest, who treated me roughly. I was asked to 
breakfast, at the house of one of his congregation, without the most 
remote hint, that I was to meet this great man ; but I was hardly 
seated, when he was observed making his approaches; and, from 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



135 



some expressions of surprise, I was induced to believe he was total- 
ly unexpected. I was astonished to see so many assembled ; but 
supposed, that curiosity to see the strange preacher of so strange a 
doctrine, had drawn them together. I was, however, afterwards 
assured, that the plan had been previously concerted. Mr. Tennant 
entered. We were introduced to each other. He drew a chair in- 
to the midst of the circle ; and commanding into his countenance 
as 1 much stern severity as he could collect, be commenced his 
studied operations. 1 1 want to know, sir, by what authority you 
presume to preach in this place ?' Pray, sir, by what authority do 
you thus presume to question me ? ' I am, sir, placed here, by Al- 
mighty God, to look after the affairs of his church, and people ; and 
I have a right to insist on knowing who, and what you are ?' Well, 
sir, if you be placed here, as the vicegerent of Heaven, you should 
take care how you conduct ; you have a great charge, and your re- 
sponsibility is proportioned to its magnitude. But, sir, I am not as- 
suming ; I have no design upon your people ; I am like a person in 
the time of harvest, who steps into the field, and binds up some 
sheaves, making no demand upon the proprietor of the grounds. 
I have never attempted to scatter your sheep ; I have not even pluck- 
ed a lock of their wool. I do not wish to govern, I only aim at be- 
ing a help. 'I do not like you a bi*- the better for all this stuff. I 
insist on knowing whether you came in at the door ? ' I wish to 
know, sir, what door you mean ? ' I mean the door of the church : 
all, who come not in at that door, are thieves and robbers.' But, 
sir, I would know, what church you mean ? The pope declares, 
there is no true church, save the one of which he is the head. The 
Episcopal bishop affirms, there is no true church, but that of which 
the king is the head. Do you, sir, mean either of these ? ' No, sir, 
I mean the true church. Did you come in at that door ?' If, sir, 
you do not tell me, what you mean by the true church, how can I 
answer you respecting tne door? 'Sir, I will have no evasions. 
Did you, or did you not, come in at the door?' Jesus Christ says : 
'I am the door; by me, if any man enter, he shall be saved.' Do 
you mean this door, sir? ' No, sir, I mean the door of the church.' 
Is not Jesus Christ the door of the church, sir? 'No, sir.' Well, 
sir, although there be many preachers, who have not entered at this 
door, you will not, I trust, esteem a preacher the less, for having 
the privilege to go in and out at this door. ' Sir, I have nothing to 
do with this; J wish to know, whether you have church authority 
for preaching? that is, whether you came properly in at the door?' 
Sir, I have the same authority for preaching, which the apostle 
Paid had ; he received his mission by the will of God, — so have I. 
* Ay, sir, give us the same miracles Paul wrought, and we will be- 
lieve you.' If the power of working miracles were necessary to 
prove a right to preach the gospel, perhaps you, sir, would be also 
at a loss to prove your own right, either to preach, or thus to ques- 
tion a fellow creature. ' Sir, you are a deceitful, hypocritical man. 
If you had come properly in at the door, I should have received 



136 



liIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



you ; but you are an impostor, — I pronounce you an impostor.' 
That is more than you know, sir, and, I add, more than I know 
myself ; but, if we cannot agree about the church, and the door, 
blessed be God ! we can agree in one fundamental point : While 
we were yet sinners, Christ Jesus died for us, and, while we were 
enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son. The 
old gentleman started from his seat, and, running round the apart- 
ment, exclaimed, in a loud and thundering voice, to those who were 
without : ' Come in, and hear gibberish, gibberish, gibberish.' I was 
astonished, and when he had so far spent his rage, as to remain for 
one moment silent, I looked full in his face, and asked ; Pray, sir, 
what language do you make use of? Is it possible, that you, a 
clergyman, highly distinguished, the head of the Presbytery, and 
now in the evening of life, should be so littie acquainted with the 
scriptures, as to call the language of revelation, gibberish? 'You 
know nothing about revelation ; there never was an individual of 
the human race, that ever had any interest in Christ, or in God, un- 
til they had repentance and faith.' Pardon me, sir : you do not be- 
lieve this yourself. 4 1 say, I do.' Excuse me, sir ; you certainly 
do not. 4 Give me leave to tell you, you have a great deal of im- 
pudence, thus to talk to me.' Nay, sir, I do not wish to offend ; I 
wish you to reconsider your assertion ; I am confident, you do not 
believe it ; and I am confident, you will have the goodness to own it, 
before I quit this apartment. 4 Let me tell you, young man, you 
have the greatest stock of assurance, I have ever met with in any 
young person. I tell you. again, there never was an individual of 
the human race, who left this world without faith and repentance, 
who ever had any interest in Christ, or ever tasted happiness.' 
Not one ? ' No, sir, not one.' Oh ! sir, I am very sorry you com- 
pel me to make you retract this affirmation. Turning to the com- 
pany, he required them to say, whether they did not think my in- 
solence surpassed credibility ? The company were silent, and, af- 
ter a pause, I said : I know, sir, if you believe Calvinistic principles, 
you believe some infants may be eternally lost ; but no Calvinist 
denies, that some infants are interested in Christ, and eternally bless- 
ed, although they passed out of time, without repentance or faith. 
« Sir, I never thought of infants.' So I imagined ; and it was there- 
fore, sir, I took the liberty to say, you did not believe what you ad- 
vanced. ' But I believe it with respect to all, besides infants.' No, 
sir, pardon me, you do not. 

Again he was exceeding angry, until I mentioned idiots. 4 I did 
not think of idiots.' I believe you did not ; but, my good sir, would 
it not be as well, if you were always to think before you speak ? 
4 Again I say, I am astonished at your impudence ; I could not have 
believed a young man like you conld have had so much impu- 
dence.' I dare say, sir, you are disappointed : you expected to have 
met a timid, poor, destitute stranger, who would have been con- 
founded by noise, and such cogent arguments, as gibberish, gibber- 
ish, repeatedly vociferated ; you expected I should not have dared 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



137 



to utter a syllable ; you have been pleased to treat me very rough- 
ly ; you know not but you have been pouring vinegar into wounds 
already sore : you have, sir, been vexing the stranger, and without 
any provocation on my part. ' Ay, ay, this is the language of all 
impostors.' 

Thus ended my morning repast. I was very much hurt' ; yet I 
reaped advantage from this new trial. Returning to my lodgings, 
I experienced the most painful sensations; but the rebuff 1 had re- 
ceived, operated as usual : it drew me nearer to my God, and, pour- 
ing out my heart in secret before the Father of my spirit, I obtain- 
ed what the favor of the clergy could never give — consolation and 
peace in believing. 

My conduct at this breakfasting conference was represented in 
such a point of view, as increased the number of my friends ; and 
clerical gentlemen in this place and its environs, forbore direct at- 
tacks; but the tongue of the private slanderer was busily employed. 
A gentleman of C , the Rev. Mr. S , repeatedly attend- 
ed my public labors; addressed me after preaching, continued some 
time in conversation with me, and appointed a day on which he 
pressed me to dine with him. I accepted his politeness with grati- 
tude, and was punctual to the time. Mr. S received me with 

manifest satisfaction ; we were alone, and we passed many hours 

most pleasantly. Mr. S seemed solicitous that I should view 

him neither as a skeptic, nor a caviller, but simply an inquirer after 
truth. He asked me many questions, which I answered as clearly 
as 1 was able ; and he appeared sometimes dissatisfied, sometimes 
silenced. Upon the whole, his deportment was gentlemanly, and I 
could not forbear regarding him as a sensible, illumined Christian. 
On my departure he urged me to consider his house my home, 

whenever I visited C ; waited on me while I mounted my 

horse, pressed my hand, and, with much apparent devotion, sup- 
plicated the blessing of Heaven upon me. On recurring to my jour- 
nal, I find my notice of this interview concluded as follows: Thus 
far am I brought on my way rejoicing; the Lord is m# Sun and 
Shield ; blessed be the name of my God! Yet no sooner was I out 
of view, than this same Mr. S ordered his horse, and post- 

ing to every respectable family in his parish, informed them that, 
with all my cunning, he had outwitted me ; that he had asked me 
to dine, and, by flattery and caresses, had thrown me off my guard, 
and obtained a complete knowledge of my principles. ' Well, dear 
sir, and what are his principles ? ' O ! truly shocking ! horrid ! most 
horrid ! I dare not relate them ; you shall not be contaminated by 
the recital ; it would be dangerous in the extreme. Nor was this 
enough. Being a member of the Presbytery, he wrote a circular 
letter, addressing every leading associate, which effectually steeled 
all hearts, and, so far as his influence extended, barred every door 
against me. Calumnies of various descriptions were disseminated ; 
rancor became uncommonly prolific ; astonishing efforts were made 
to destroy my reputation ; but God was with me, and his spirit was 



138 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



my never-failing support. In the midst of these fiery trials, I pass- 
ed on : succeeding weeks and months rolled away, while my days 
were appropriated to my beloved home, to different parts of the 
Jersies, Philadelphia, New York, and many of the intervening towns 
scattered between those cities. 

In the commencement of the autumn, of 1773, 1 was strongly in- 
duced to journey as far as Newport, in Rhode Island ; and having 
dropped a tear, at parting with my faithful friend, I commended 
him to the care of Heaven, and began my new tour of duty. The 
chilly mornings and evenings of even the first autumnal month, 
gave me to experience the want of an outside garment. I was, 
however, determined not to solicit human aid ; this, I believed, 
would be taking the business out of the hand of my Master. If 
God had sent me, he would put it into the hearts of his people to 
supply me ; yet I did not calculate that this want would be supplied 
until I reached New York. I believed I had in that city a friend, 
who would derive pleasure from administering to my necessities. 
But when I was preparing to leave Brunswick, a person entered the 
parlor, displayed a number of patterns, requested I would make a 
choice for a great coat, and asked how long I should tarry in town. 
I told him I should leave town early on the succeeding morning : 
* Well, sir,' he returned, ' your coat shall be ready.' I asked by 
whom he was sent. ' Sir, I was ordered not to say by whom.' It 
is very well, I know who sent you. ' Do you, sir ? ' Yes, sir, it 
was God, my Father ; who, having all hearts in his hand, has stimu- 
lated your employer. Early the following morning, the coat was 
brought home ; I was deeply affected, and laying my hand upon it, 
I said: Henceforward thou shalt be my monitor; whenever I feel 
my heart desponding, in silent, but persuasive language, thou shalt 
say : ' Cast thy care upon God, for he careth for thee.' It was not 
so much the supply of this pressing want that pleased me, as the 
recognition of the immediate hand of paternal Deity, who thus 
vouchsafed to own and bless my mission. On my arrival in New 
York, I learned, to my great astonishment, that the friend on whom 
my hopes of a winter garment had rested, w as become my enemy ! 
I was greatly pained ; he was very dear to me ; but a religious slan- 
derer had been at his ear, and had prejudiced him against me. I 
lost him forever — alas! alas! how many such losses have I Retain- 
ed, since I became a promulgator of the truth, as it is in Jesus. 

Leaving New York, I postponed my journey to Newport, pass- 
ed through East Jersey, and stopped at Amboy, where I had many 
friends. Sitting one evening at tea with a lady, she complained 
that her maid had quitted her, having been seduced from her duty 
by a foot soldier. This immediately reminded me of Mrs. Trin- 
bath, the poor unhappy lady at whose house in Cork, I had, in com- 
pany with Mr. Whitefield and others, been so splendidly entertain- 
ed. I related the mournful tale, when the lady assured me she 
knew the unhappy creature ; she had seen her in Amboy, and that 
she was now in New York, in a most wretched situation. I imme- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



139 



diately conceived a hope, that, if I could obtain an interview with 
her, I might prevail upon her to return to her widowed mother, 
and to her children ; and although her husband was no more, she 
might yet, in some measure, retrieve the past. Alas ! alas ! I did 
not calculate that I was thus making provision for the most serious 
calamity which, during my sojourn in this new world, had until 
then overtaken me. 

The following day, intent on my purpose, I took passage in the 
packet, for New-York ; accompanied by the serjeant-major of the 
regiment to which the fellow belonged, with whom this deluded 
woman lived. I asked him, if he knew such a person? Yes, he 
knew her, and she was in a very wretched condition. I sighed, 
from the inmost recesses of my soul, while I listened to his account 
of her manner of living. I begged to know if I could see her. 
Yes, he could conduct me to her abode ; but on our arrival, pass- 
ing over the common, near the gaol, to the residence of this poor 
creature, we chanced to meet her infamous seducer, who, not hav- 
ing heard of the death of Mr. Trinbath, immediately concluded I 
was that injured husband, come to reclaim my wretched wanderer. 
Under this impression, he hastened home, and effectually secreted 
her, before we reached the door. I was disappointed, but I inform- 
ed a poor creature in the house, that I would call, upon the ensu- 
ing day, at one o'clock, when I hoped I might obtain an interview, 
I was, the next day, punctual to the appointment; but, instead of 
the misguided woman, I received a letter, directed to Mr. Trinbath, 
entreating most earnestly, that I would not attempt to see her ; that 
after treating me as she had done, she never would see me more ; 
and that, if I persisted in pursuing her, she would leave the city, 
and, taking with her her miserable children, they would all perish 
together, for she would, rather than meet my eye, suffer a thousand 
deaths. I was beyond measure shocked at this letter ; I saw the 
absolute necessity of seeing and convincing her of her error; but 
how was this to be effectuated ? i could devise no plan. I told 
the old woman, it was a most capital mistake ; that I was not the 
person she supposed. O, said she, you need say nothing about 
that, sir ; every body knows you are her husband, and every body 
pities you, poor gentleman, that you should have such a wife ; but 
she has bad advisers, and 1 dare say, if you can see her and forgive 
her, (and every body says, that if you did not intend to do so, you 
would never have sought her,) she will again be a very good wo- 
man. I was provoked beyond endurance ; but every appearance 
of irritation was imputed to my disappointment, and consequent re- 
sentment. My soul was harrowed up by agonizing distress ; una- 
ble to convince the old woman, I returned to my lodgings. My 
friends perceived the anguish of my spirits, for which they were 
well able to account ; they, however, carefully avoided the subject 
At last, not being able to control my emotions, I burst into tears. 
They were alarmed. 'What is the matter?' I circumstantially 
related the whole story, and dwelt upon my sufferings, consequent 



140 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



upon my inability to see Mrs. Trinbath, and convince her of her 
mistake. My friends appeared relieved, and proposed my writing 
to her, and leaving it at her lodgings ; she will see it is not the 
hand-writing of her husband. The propriety of this measure was 
obvious; I asked the gentleman, if he would accompany me? 
'Most gladly.' I wrote immediately, laboring to convince this un- 
fortunate woman of her error, and assuring her, that my friend, 
Mr. Trinbath, had been many years dead ; that if she would but 
give me a meeting, for a single moment, she would acknowledge 
she had nothing to fear from me. This letter was ineffectual ; she 
was positive it was all a deception, and that, with a view of de- 
ceiving her, I had employed some other pen. 

This story was a sweet morsel to my religious foes. It was 
painted in the most odious colors, and industriously exhibited. 
They declared, the woman was unquestionably my wile ; and that, 
on account of the treatment she had received from her barbarous 
husband, she had preferred putting herself under the protection of 
a common soldier ; that she had attended church, upon a lecture 
evening, and upon seeing me, her husband, in the pulpit, she had 
shrieked aloud, and fainted. This, and a thousand other falsehoods, 
were circulating through the city. My humane friends, at length, 
interfered ; they solicited ihe commanding officer to oblige the fel- 
low, with whom the woman lived, to produce her; she approached 
with dread apprehension ; a large company was collected, specta- 
tors of the scene. She caught a glance, and exclaiming, in a trem- 
ulous accent. It is, it is he — immediately fainted. Curiosity, and 
humanity, combined to recover her; she was led into the parlor. 
I appeared full before her, entreating her to take a view of my 
face ; she did so, and no words can express her confusion ; her ac- 
knowledgments were repeated and copious; she did not recollect, 
ever to have seen me before. 1 was most happy in the result of 
this untoward business, which had nearly annihilated my anxiety 
respecting her restoration to her connexions. Indeed I was assur- 
ed, no entreaties would procure her return to Cork. So many had 
witnessed an ecclaireissement, so honorable to me, that 1 fondly 
believed it would be attached to the narration : but alas! there was 
not a thousandth part of the pains taken to publish the truth, as 
had been taken to spread far and wide the slander; here it was the 
still voice of friendship ; there it was Slander with her thousand 
tongues. None but God can tell, how much I have suffered, from 
the various trials I have encountered. Again, I mournfully ac- 
knowledged, that my object in coming to America was not in any 
view obtained ; that my grand desideratum appeared further and 
further from my reach. Again I wished most ardently to be in Eng- 
land ; yea, in the very scenes from which 1 had escaped, if I might 
thus be delivered from the distracted situation, in which 1 was in- 
volved ; and the more 1 contemplated the indignation and power 
of the clergy, the more frequently I exclaimed, Doubtless I shall 
one day perish by the hand of my enemy. Yet, in the darkest 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



141 



flight of my affliction, my gracious God frequently vouchsafed to 
grant me peace and joy in believing that His almighty power was 
sufficient for me; and, in the puJpit, whatever was my previous 
situation, either mental, or corporeal, when engaged in the investi- 
gation of divine truth, I was not only tranquil, but happy : and 
this happiness I often enjoyed ; for an ardent curiosity obliged the 
people every where to hear; and, when a pulpit could not be ob- 
tained, a private house, a court-house, a wood, answered the pur- 
pose ; and I rejoiced, while contemplating the irradiations of divine 
truth, bursting through the dark clouds of prejudice, and with such 
imposing splendor, and could only be effectuated by Omnipotent 
power. 

I received frequent and most pressing invitations to visit New 
England. During my residence in New York, I became knowu 
to many gentlemen of Connecticut; and I was requested to stop 
and deliver my testimony in various places along the road. I re- 
sumed my purpose of visiting Newport, determining to proceed 
thither with all possible dispatch. I had, however, promised to stop 
at a friend's house in Milford, and at another's in Guilford: at which 
places 1 preached to very large congregations ; several strangers hav- 
ing seen me elsewhere, recognized me, and entreated me to accom- 
pany them to their respective homes ; but my object was Newport. 
Many individuals from Norwich, departed from Guilford with me ; 
they gave me to understand, that, having made a part of my audi- 
ence, on the preceding evening, they were extremely desirous I 
should proceed with them to Norwich. We passed the day very 
agreeably together, conversing with great freedom. About sunset, 
we reached New-London, where it was my resolution to bid my 
new associates adieu ; but they so earnestly importuned me to go 
on, one gentleman in particular, that, accepting his proffered kind- 
ness, I was that night lodged in his hospitable dwelling. He soon 
became, and ever alter continued my steadfast friend. Many in 
Norwich, received me with great kindness ; a house of worship 
was provided ; but it not being sufficiently spacious, the doors of 
the great meeting-house were thrown open, and never afterwards 
shut against me. Thus, in this instance, the zeal of the people has 
been sufficiently imposing, to prevail against ministerial opposition. 
The friends 1 obtained in Norwich were, in truth, inestimable ; some 
individuals are not yet called home ; they remain unwavering in 
the belief of the truth, as it is in Jesus ; and in their affectionate 
attachment to its feeble advocate. At Norwich, 1 was solicited to 
preach in the meeting-house of Mr. Hart, of Preston ; to which 
place many of my new friends accompanied me. Having passed 
the night at Preston, on the succeeding morning, I recommenced 
my journey with the Rev. Mr. Hopkins,* of Newport. The dis- 

* See Murray's ' Letters and Sketches,' vol. I. letter iv. I have sup- 
plied the name of Hopkins for the initial, which has been adopted in 
other editions. T. W. 

13 



142 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



lance was between 30 and 40 miles ; but as Mr. Hopkins was going 
home, lie would not stop to dine on the road. In the course of the 
day Mr. Hopkins thus questioned me : 4 Wei), sir, I suppose you 
will preach in Newport?' Very likely, sir. 'You have friends 
there, I presume?' No, sir, 1 do not know a single soul. 'You 
have letters of recommendation, perhaps?' Not a line, sir. 'Where 
then do you intend to go, and what do you intend to do ? 5 I have 
laid no plans, sir. ' I promise you, you shall not preach in my meet- 
ing.' 1 should be very much surprised if 1 did, sir. ' And 1 sup- 
pose you think you are called of God, to go to Newport ? ' I think 
it is not unlikely, sir. 'I believe you will find yourself mistaken.' 
It is possible. ' Suppose you should find no place to preach in, what 
would you do then ?' Devote myself to private conversation. 'But 
suppose you could find no one to converse with ? ' Then I wouki 
turn about and come back again. ' But what would you think of 
your faith ?' Call it fancy. But at present, I think I shall preach 
the gospel in Newport: and although I am an utter stranger, know- 
ing no one, nor known by any one ; yet I expect, before 1 leave the 
place, to have many fiiends. 'Ay, these are fine fancies indeed.' 
Had you not better suspend your decision until you witness the re- 
sult ? will it not then be full time to determine whether it be faith 
or fancy 1 'If it should not be as I predict, I should not be asham- 
ed to own my error: if it should, you ought to blush for your 
unwarrantable coufid.er.ee. But as it is not impossible you may 
preach in that, city, and that some of my people may be among the 
number of your hearers, I think I have a right to question you.' If 
God will give me leave to preach to his people, I am content. ' What 
do you mean by that, sir ? ' Your observation brought to my mind 
what, on a certain occasion, a very distinguished servant of God 
said to his master, when he was told to go down and see what his 
people were doing. O Lord, they are not my people, they are thy 
people. However, Moses was not settled on your plan. 'Well, sir, 
1 look upon my people to be God's people.' You are perfectly right, 
sir, so indeed they are ; and if I speak to them at all, I shall speak 
to them in that character. ' Well, sir, as you call yourself a preach- 
er of the gospel, and may, as I have said, preach to my people, it is 
proper 1 should know what ideas you have of gospel. Tell me, sir, 
what is gospel ?' I am happy in being able to give you a direct 
answer. The gospel, sir, is a solemn declaration, given upon the 
oath of Jehovah, that, in the seed of Abraham, all the nations 
shoidd be blessed. ' Is that all you know of gospel ? ' Would it 
not, my good sir, require a very long time to inform mankind who 
ami what that Seed is ; how, and in what manner all the nations of 
the earth are and shall be blessed therein ; and what blessings they 
are blessed with in Christ Jesus? The apostle Paul, although he 
labored more abundantly than his brethren, found this vast, this im- 
pellent subject, abundantly sufficient for his whole life; and those 
Mho are blessed in that Seed, will find the contemplation of that 
blessedness, which they shall be blessed with, in Him, sufficient to 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



143 



furnish a song, which, although never ending, will be ever new. 

* If such be your views, you know nothing at ail of gospel,' You 
could not so absolutely determine this matter, if you yourself were 
not acquainted with the meaning of the term gospel. Tell me then, 
sir, if you please, what is gospel ? k Why, sir, this is gospel ; He 
that believeth, shall be saved, and he that believeth not, shall be 
damned.' Indeed, sir, I had thought the literal, simple meaning of 
the term gospel was glad tidings. Which part of the passage you 
have cited is gospel, that which announces salvation, or that which 
announces damnation? 'Well then, if you please, this is gospel : 
He that believeth shall be saved? Believeth what, sir? ' That.' What, 
sir ? ' That, I tell you.' What, sir ? ' That, I tell you ; He thai 
believeth shall be saved? Believeth lohat, sir? What is he to be- 
Heve ? ' Why that, I tell you.' I wished, sir, to treat this investi- 
gation seriously ; but as you seem disposed to be rather ludicrous, 
we will, if you please, dismiss the subject. ' No sir, 1 do not mean 
to be ludicrous; I am very serious.' Well, sir, if so, then I beg 
leave to ask, what is it 1 am to believe ; the believing of which will 
save me ? 5 That Jesus Christ made it possible for sinners to be sa- 
ved.' By what means ? ' By believing.' Believing what? ' ThaV 
What? ' That Jesus Christ made it possible for sinners to be sa- 
ved.' By what means is it possible that sinners may be saved ? 
*By believing, I tell you.' But the devils believe ; will their believ- 
ing save them? 'No, sir. 5 Suppose! believe that Jesus Christ 
made it possible to save sinners; will that save me? 'No, sir.' 
Then sir, let me ask, what am I to believe, the believing of which 
will save me ? * Why, sir, you must believe the gospel, that Jesus 
made it possible for sinners to be saved.' But by what means? 

* By believing.' Believing what ? ' That, I tell you.' 

Mr. Hopkins could not but be conscious the ground he had taken 
was untenable. Had he answered in scripture language, that the truth 
to be believed and which we make God a liar by not believing, was that 
Christ had given himself a random for all, to be testified in due time ; 
that he had absolutely tasted death for every man ; and that every 
man should be made alive in Christ Jesus, &c. &c. ; the inference 
was unavoidable, nor man nor devil could undo what God had 
done; the power exists not, which can set aside the decrees of God. 
If the Redeemer did not taste death for all ; if he has not purchased 
all; then those, for whom He has not tasted death, whom ha has 
not purchased, have no right to believe He has ; and were they so 
to believe, they must indubitably believe a lie. 

But, finding the temper of Mr. Hopkins rise higher and higher 
every thne I repeated my question,* 1 endeavored to bring the mat- 

* Mr. Murray, in his reference to this conversation, ' Letters, &c. 
vol. 1, Letter iv. says ; ' Some year3 since I was in company with a 
person deemed one of the greatest luminaries in this part of the Chris- 
tian world. He has given his name to a set of dreamers (Hop kins -ians) 
in New England, and has written against the truth, and its very abh* 



144 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ter to a conclusion, by observing, that I was astonished to find a 
master in Israel, and a writer, too, either not able, or not willing to 
answer a simple question, viz.: what am I to believe is the foun- 
dation of my salvation? what am I to believe procures my justifi- 
cation in the sight of God ? 'And I am astonished at your blas- 
phemy.' This is in character, sir ; men of your description were 
long since fond of fixing this charge on both the Master and his 
witnesses ; but, remember, sir, if I have blasphemed, it is only Mr. 
Hopkins whom I have blasphemed. ' Well, sir, I believe I have 
gone too far ; I will, if you please, take back the charge.' With 
all my heart, sir. ' I do not doubt you may be admired in Newport 
a whole fortnight.' That no doubt will be fourteen days longer 
than you would wish. 

advocate, Mr. Relly.' The work of Dr. Hopkins here referred to was 
published in 1783, and was entitled ' An Inquiry concerning the future 
state of those who die in their sins, wherein the dictates of scripture 
and reason on this important subject are carefully considered ; and 
whether endless punishment be consistent with divine justice, wisdom, 
and goodness : in which also objections are stated and answered.' The 
work was divided into six sections. 

Section i. It is inquired whether the wicked will be punished in the 
future state, and what the Holy Scriptures teach concerning this. 

Sec. ii. It is particularly considered whether it is revealed in the Ho- 
ly Scriptures that the punishment of the wicked will be endless. 

Sec. iii. Contains an examination of those passages of scripture which 
the opposers of the doctrine of endless punishment and advocates for 
the salvation of all men have thought to be favorable to their cause. 

Sec. iv. It is considered what reason may be given for the doctrine 
of endless punishment, which is revealed in the scriptures ; or why God 
will punish impenitent sinners forever ; and whether there be any rea- 
sonable objections against this. 

Sec. v. Contains a number of questions and answers relating to the 
doctrine of endless punishment. 

Sec. vi. Contains inferences from the doctrine of endless punish- 
ment ; and a particular improvement of it. 

This work was an octavo pamphlet of 194 pages. Although it was 
not published until 1783, it was remarked by the author, in the preface, 
that ' it was written some years ago, soon after the doctrine of endless 
punishment began to be publicly denied by some among us.' From all 
the circumstances, we think it probable that Mr. Hopkins' wounded 
pride from the conversation with Mr. Murray, stimulated him at the 
time to write this work. See Mod. Hist. Universalism, p. 325. It was 
never probably highly valued by the Orthodox themselves, for we nev- 
er saw it referred to or quoted by any of their writers. 

Mr. Hopkins speaks of several publications which had then recently 
appeared, on the same subject, particularly 'The doctrine of final, uni- 
versal salvation examined, and shown to be unscriptural,' by Dr. Gor- 
don, of Ro.xbury, (Mass.) ; ' A discourse concerning the process of the 
General Judgment,' by Mr. Emmons, of Franklin, (Mass) ; ' That all 
men shall not be saved, attempted to be proved and illustrated in three 
Sermons,' by Mr. Thatcher, of Maiden, (Mass). T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



145 



Arriving in sight of Newport, Mr. Hopkins said: 'There Sir, is 
■my meeting-house ; at a little distance from thence is my dwelling- 
iiouse, and my friends are multiplied.' Well, sir, I have no home, 
meeting-house, nor friend, in Newport. Yet, I repeat, before 1 
leave that city, I expect to have more than one home, and many 
friends. ' Well, now I think of it, there is one man, who has a 
little place, in which, possibly, you may get leave to preach ; I will 
direct you to a man, who has some acquaintance with him.' I 
will thank you, sir, to inform me where my horse may be taken 
care of ; for myself, I have little concern. ' I promise you, horse- 
keeping is very high in Newport.' That, sir, is very sad tidings 
to me, for I promise you, my finances are very low. Some very 
bitter speeches were made; and I regretted, that I was so unfor- 
tunate, as to have taken the journey with Mr. Hopkins. Your 
people, said I, are leavened with the leaven of the Pharisees, and 
you seem to be leavened with the leaven of Herod. ' What do you 
mean by the leaven of Herod V 1 mean the nature of Herod. 
'How does that apply?' Some persons urged our Master to fly, 
in consequence of derod's seeking his life. Go, said He, tell that 
fox, 1 work to-day and to-morrow, &c. &c. Our Master denomi- 
nated Herod a fox, for the purpose of giving an idea of his nature. 
What is a fox? A creature that lives upon the spoil; but he is 
dependent upon the secrecy of the night, and, we are told, in order 
the more effectually to cover his designs, he sometimes imitates 
the watch-dog, thus endeavoring to make it appear, he is defend- 
ing the property of the husbandman, while, under the guise of 
watchful care for others, he is covertly acting for himself till the 
morning dawns, till the light appears, and then his labor ends. 
This is the leaven of Herod, and it was of the nature of this insid- 
ious animal, that our Lord cautioned his disciples to beware. 
4 Well, there is something ingenious in that, I confess.' We reach- 
ed the ferry a little before sunset, -and on landing at Newport : 
'There,' said Mr. Hopkins, pointing to a small shop, 'If you will 
call on that man, he will give you direction.' I walked on, stop- 
ped at the door, and holding the bridle in my hand, asked the man 
•behind the counter, if he would be so obliging as to inform me, 
which was the best inn for keeping horses ? ' Please to walk in, 
sir.' I fastened my horse and entered the shop, and seeing the 
man look very gloomy, and hearing him sigh very bitterly, I con- 
cluded he must be under the pressure of some heavy calamity ; 
and, as no woman appeared, I suspected the poor fellow must 
have lost his wife, and my sympathies were very powerfully ex- 
cited. I was, however, solicitous about my horse, and again 
requested the requisite information. ' Do not make yourself un- 
easy, sir, my little boy will be here in a few moments, when I will 
send him with your horse, and you will be so obliging as to tarry 
here, and drink tea ; my wife is out of town, and of course things 
will not be so well, as if she were here.' I was very much reliev- 
ed by this intelligence, and sat, down. ' How far have you travel- 
13* 



146 



EIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ed to-day, sir?' From Preston, in Connecticut, sir. 'Did you 
come alone, sir?' No, sir, I came in company with a Mr. Hop- 
kins, one of your teachers; I parted with him at the ferry. * Did 
he not ask you to his house ? ' No, sir. ' Well,- sir, I hope 
you will believe, there is not another man in this town, who would 
have been so deficient ; you must, however, tarry here to-night, 
and we will take especial care of your horse.' You are very 
obliging, sir; but I had rather, if you please, attend to my horse 
myself. ' Will you, sir, be so good as to leave this matter to me, 
and take some refreshment yourself? You are a public character, 
and 1 have been accustomed to attend to public characters.' How 
do you know lama public character? there is nothing in my 
appearance, which indicates it. 

' The moment you came to my door, it seemed as if some one 
had said, The person who addresses you is a preacher ; take kind 
notice of him ; and I immediately determined to obey the impulse.' 
This instance of providential care nearly overpowered me: I was 
the more affected by this bright manifestation, as it closed a very 
dark day. It spoke, to my wounded mind, the language of assur- 
ance ; my Divine Master was with me, and had prepared the heart 
of this man to receive me, and this soothing consideration gave me 
inexpressible pleasure. Had I been in a clerical dress, or had the 
smallest vestige of those habiliments been discernible, I should 
have believed those externals had produced their effect. But, 
divested as I was, of everything which could speak to the eye, I 
could not but greatly rejoice in this instance of recognizing good- 
ness, and my full soul glowed with fervent and devotional grati- 
tude. My cup of tea was mingled with my tears; but they were 
tears of joy, of sacred rapture. It was like the priest leaving me, 
and the good Samaritan taking me up ; and the oil and wine, thus 
poured into my lacerated bosom, was most salutary, truly refresh- 
ing. 

My kind host summoned a number of his friends to pass the 
evening ; they all appeared very gloomy, and I had sympathy for 
their situation. After being introduced, they continued for some 
time silent, and sighed in their turns very bitterly. Those sighs, 
however, although signs, were not proofs, of sorrow ; it was the 
custom for very religious people to be very melancholy, and these 
were very religious people ; so much so, that I afterwards discover- 
ed, there was no society in town, with which they could conscien- 
tiously associate. It was proposed, I should narrate my expe- 
riences, that they might judge if I were a child of God. I very 
readily accommodated myself to their wishes, and gave them a 
sketch of some memorable scenes in my life. When I closed, a 
profound silence, interrupted only by sighs, succeeded; at last, one 
affirmed, I was not a child of God, my experiences were not of 
the true kind, he could not go with me; a second pronounced, I 
was a child of God, for he felt me as I proceeded. Being thus 
divided, they knew not on what to determine ; at last, it was pro- 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



147 



posed to apply to Mr. D — — , for his meeting-house. This was the 
very place, pointed out by Mr. Hopkins. 1 knew his design was 
to ruin me, and therefore, without hesitation, I said I did not feel a 
freedom to speak in the proposed place. Well, would I preach in 
the room, in which we were sitting; many had so done, and why 
not me ? This also I rejected, it was too much confined. They 
pronounced me very difficult ; they did not believe I should find 
any other place. I assured them, I was not anxious in this 
respect. If God had sent me, he would provide a place for me ; 
if he had not, I was willing to return, whence 1 came. ' Perhaps 
God has provided you a place, by directing us to make these 
offers.' No, sir, if God had directed you to make these offers, and 
had thought proper I should deliver my message in either of the 
places mentioned, he would have disposed my heart to embrace 
them ; but this / feel He has not done. They pronounced me 
very odd, and took their leave ; but the master of the house, and 
one of his friends, conceiving there was something uncommon in 
me, my manner, and my matter, continued with me in conversa- 
tion the greater part of the night, and, although I had travelled all 
the day, yet I found no inconveniences from this additional fatigue. 

After breakfast, on the ensuing day, I walked round the town, 
and was much pleased with its situation ; its harbor and perspec- 
tive views delighted me ; and, although a stranger, with only a few 
shillings in my pocket, my bosom was as tranquil as if in my own 
residence, and master of thousands. Blessed be God ! I have nev- 
er yet experienced much solicitude about this world, or the gifts 
which it has to bestow. It never entered my head, or heart, that 1 
should not be supplied with whatever was necessary for me ; I had 
fared hard, and I could again accommodate myself to the vicissi- 
tudes of life — yea, and without a murmur. I continued perambu- 
lating the streets until the hour of dining, when I returned to my 
lodgings. 'Well, sir, the committee of Dr. Stiles'* meeting have 
been here to engage you to supply their pulpit to-morrow, — Sun- 
day, — and they will call for your answer in the evening.' I was, I 
confess, astonished ; but the evening produced the committee, and 
I acceded to their wishes. One of the gentlemen pressed me to re- 
turn with him, and take up my abode at his house during my con- 
tinuance in Newport : I did so, and was soon domesticated in his 
family, which continued my occasional home for many, very many 
years. Doctor Stiles was absent, and it was the business of the 
committee to supply the desk till his return ; my appearance was 
opportune, and the people were generally pleased. I was request- 

* I have supplied the name of Stiles. I suppose it to have been Ezra , 
Stiles, D. D., afterwards President of Yale College. He left Newport 
in 1776, when his congregation was dispersed by the war, and was cho- 
sen to the presidency in 1777. After his removal to New Haven, on 
one occasion when Mr. Murray was there, he gave orders that not one 
of the students should hear him. — Letters and Sketches,!. 317. T. W. 



148 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ed to publish a lecture for the next day. I did so, and the congre^ 
gation was crowded and attentive. I informed the audience that I 
purposed tarrying in Newport two weeks, during which time I was 
ready to unite with them in consulting the sacred writings as often 
as they pleased ; but if I delivered any more lectures, it must be in 
the evening. My reason for which was, that there Were many la- 
boring persons, who could not attend without loss of time, — and 
loss of time to them was loss of property. I was then informed, 
that when Mr. Whitefield was last there, the parish had passed a 
vote against evening lectures. I replied : The parish has an indu- 
bitable right to adhere to their vote ; but they must excuse me if 
I thought it my duty to abide by my determination. The parish 
met, re-considered their vote, and requested me to preach in the 
evening. Here then I preached, every evening, until the Doctor's 
return ; to whom my kind, honest host, requested me to accompa- 
ny him on a visit, insisting upon my promising that I would return 
with him. Simple man, because he, a hearer, was pleased, he con- 
ceived his minister would also be pleased, and that he would press 
me to abide at his house. 1 promised him, however, and he exult- 
ed in having gained liis point. The Doctor received me with cool 
civility ; asked me a great many questions ; spoke of my pulpit tal- 
ents in the way I expected he would speak of them; and finally 
expressed regret that he could not ask my assistance on the ensu- 
ing day, — Sunday,— as there were so many individuals who would 
be offended. My friend was astonished. I was not. My friend 
observed, there was but one in the congregation who was opposed 
to my preaching in their meeting-house ; and, he added, if I did 
not preach, the people would be greatly disappointed. The Doc- 
tor would not hear him, and we parted, without my receiving even 
an invitation to repeat my call. My guileless host expressed great 
surprise. 'So good a man as the Doctor; why, I imagined he 
would have taken you into his arms, and never, if he could help 
it, have permitted you to lodge any where but under his roof.' from 
this moment I had much to grieve me in Newport; for, although 
my friends were numerous, and my enemies but few, yet those few 
were uncommonly industrious. 

On Monday moaning, one of the committee who had first engag- 
ed me to preach, called upon me at my lodgings, and informed me 
there came on Saturday night from New York, a reverend divine, 
who had given me a most horrid character; he had said many 
things which he hoped and believed were not true. Pray, sir, 
where is this good man ? ' He is, sir, at the house of Mr. Rogers, 
father of the Rev. Mr. Rogers.' Will you, sir, call upon this gen- 
tleman with me ? ' Certainly, sir ; but you had better first take 
breakfast.' By no means, I may miss him ; and I want to see him 
in your presence. 

We hurried off immediately, but alas! he had left town at break 
of day ; he had just cast out firebrands, arrows, and death, and 
withdrawn from the investigation, upon which he had reason to 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



149 



calculate. The parade was full of people ; the reports ran like wild- 
fire ; fame had blown the trumpet of slander, and, at the house of 
Mr. Rogers, many were assembled. I regretted, that the reverend 
calumniator had flown : I wished to be tried in the presence of the 
people. I requested, however, that they would exhibit the charges, 
lodged against me. They did so, and they consisted of the follow- 
ing items:— 1st, I had formerly labored for my living: 2dly, I was 
a married man ; Sdly, I had children ; 4thly, I had been a stage 
player ; and 5tMy, I bad sung songs. Upon which I observed : 
Perhaps my denial of these charges may answer little purpose ; yet, 
as in the presence of Heaven, you will allow me to say, that, al- 
though I have made some unsuccessful attempts to obtain an hon- 
orable competency, yet I have, alas! and it is with extreme sorrow 
I make the declaration, I have, in thisivorld, neither wife nor child; 
I solemnly assure you, I never was an actor upon any stage ; I ac- 
knowledge I have sung songs, I was once pronounced a good 
singer ; yet I do not recollect, that I ever sang any bad songs ; in- 
deed I have been so long out of the habit of song-singing, that I do 
not remember what songs I have sung. I do not, however, admit, 
that if these charges could be substantiated, they ought to crimi- 
nate me. It cannot be a crime to labor ; ' Six days shalt thou labor. 1 
The apostle Paul labored with his own hands. Many of you are 
married men ; many of you have children ; many, in pursuit of bu- 
siness, quit for a season both wives and children ; and if I had re- 
linquished the stage for the life of a religionist, it should be consid- 
ered as a testimony in my favor. With regard to song-singing, 
while music makes a part, even of divine worship, a sentimental 
song could not be supposed detrimental to the interests of morality. 
I requested to know, if there were any other charges ; and was 
answered with a murmur of applause, 'none, sir, none.' The 
tide now turned in my favor, and the people were astonished, that 
they had annexed the smallest consequence to those reports. 

I had now in Newport a very respectable circle of friends, and 
the occurrence, thus briefly recorded, augmented their affectionate 
attentions. As a testimony how little they regarded it, they made 
a party to go out in a number of carriages, and pass the day upon 
the island ; and most delightfully did we enjoy ourselves. We 
left town in the midst of the tumult ; but those who were present 
at the examination,, mingling with their fellow-citizens, gave them 
an account of what had passed, and it was generally considered, as 
a plan to bar their pulpit against me ; this irritated them, and they 
determined it should not succeed. They dispatched a message to 
me; 1 could not be found. I returned in the evening, and receiv- 
ed, by the sexton of Doctor Stiles 's meeting, an address, signed by 
a large number of influential characters, earnestly requesting 1 
would, upon that evening, deliver a lecture. I consented ; the bell 
announced my consent ; the congregation assembled, and the house 
was very full. 1 selected my subject from Isaiah ' Who hath believ- 
ed our report ? ' I was divinely supported ; my heart was very full; 



150 



LIFE OF REV, JOHiY MURRAY. 



gratitude glowed in my bosom, gratitude to that Being, who Bad 
upon this, as well as upon many former occasions, so conspicu- 
ously appeared for me. 

Among other valuable acquisitions, which crowned my labors in 
Newport, was the friendship of Mr. afterwards General Varnum, 
who gave me, upon the succeeding morning, a letter to Mr. N. 
Brown, of Providence, for which place I departed. Mr. Brown 
received me with much civility, and distinguished me by many 
acts of kindness. The Rev. Mr. Snow's meeting-house was thrown 
open ; the congregations in Providence were large, T acquired ma- 
ny respectable friends, and my visit was truly pleasing. 1 contem- 
plated extending my tour as fir as Boston, but the season being far 
advanced, I postponed my purpose, and hastened back to my plea- 
sant home. Visiting my friends upon the road, I did not reach the 
dwelling of my patron, until the winter was at the door. This endur- 
ing friend began to fear he should eventually lose me ; and in truth 
the pressing calls, made upon me, allowed tne but little leisure to tarry 
with him. In the course of this winter, I made many visits ; but my 
little stock of money was nearly exhausted. Had I consented to 
the mode of collecting, then in practice, such was the zeal of my 
hearers, that I might have amassed large sums ; but I had no fam- 
ily, I did not want money, [ believed I should be less obnoxious as 
a preacher, if I levied no taxes upon the people ; and I was ambi- 
tious of being able to ask, Whose ox, or whose ass have I taken ? 
Still, as I proceeded, the rancor of the clergy pursued me ; this 
pained me to the soul, and 1 have passed many agonized hours, 
originating from this inveterate source. I, however, veiled those 
scenes of sorrow from the eye of the many ; in fact, when engaged 
in conversation, I so unreservedly enjoyed my friends, that I ceas- 
ed, for the time being, to reflect upon my enemies or their enmity, 
I never left home, without increasing both the number of my friends 
and my enemies ; and they were, individually and collectively, ve- 
ry much in earnest, while every attempt to oppose the progress of 
truth became, in the hand of God, subservient to the purpose of 
opening the eyes of the people. 

I think it was in the January of 1773, that a most importunate 
solicitation drew me to Philadelphia ; and, having frequently visited 
that city, I had many opportunities with strangers, collected there. 
Many bore with them to their respective homes, such an account 
of my doctrine and my manner, as excited much curiosity. 1 was 
repeatedly and earnestly urged to proceed to Maryland ; an eminent 
physician, by repeated letters, reiterated his solicitations. A sense 
of duty imperiously insisted upon my accepting every invitation of 
the kind, to the extent of my power, and I consequently determin- 
ed upon an immediate commencement of my journey to Maryland ; 
accordingly my horse was produced at the door, when it occurred 
to me that I had no money. Well, and what then ? said 1. ' You 
will not think of a journey in such circumstances?' said cold-heart- 
ed Prudence. I certainly will. ' But how are you to get through 



X.XFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



151 



a strange country, in which you have no acquaintance V For 
shame ; is this a time for these remarks? Do you not know, that 
God Almighty can, at all times, and in every place, open the heart ; 
and that, if He be disposed to do anything with me, or by me, he 
will most assuredly bring me on my way ? 4 But had you not bet- 
ter iet your friends in this city know your circumstances ? They 
will unquestionably make provision for you.' But this would be 
leaning upon an arm of flesh : it would be making provision for 
myself ' What will you do at the first stage ? you will not be able 
to purchase anything, either for yourself or your horse.' If J meet 
with no support, 1 will return immediately ; by this I shall know, if 
it be the will of God I should proceed. ' And will you reafly go on 
in this way?' Most assuredly; and I was on the point of mount- 
ing my horse, when a gentleman crossed the street. 'Are you go- 
ing out of town, sir?' Yes, sir. 'How far, pray: which way P 
To Maryland, sir, to visit a place, which, as I am told, is eighty 
miies from this city. ' Are you going alone, sir ?' 1 am, sir. ' I 
wish 1 had known of your determination one hour since, I would 
certaiiily have accompanied you part of the way.' Well sir, you 
can do that now : if you please, 1 will wait an hour. ' Will you ? 
then I will get ready as soon as possible.' The gentleman was 
punctual ; in less than an hour he was on horseback ; and we com- 
menced our journey together. We passed on to Chester, delighted 
with our ride, and dined luxuriantly at one of the best inns in the 
country. Here I expected my fellow traveller would quit me ; and 
prudence again questioned: ' Will you not either return, or make 
known your situation ?' I will do neither ; I will trust in the Lord, 
and stay upon the God of my salvation. Our horses were ordered 
out, again we proceeded together, and our conversation was inter- 
esting, animated, delightful. In the middle of the afternoon, we 
made a second stage ; here, said my companion, 1 had determined 
to leave you, but 1 find I am not able ; 1 must proceed. We went 
on until evening, when we put up at the house of a friend of my fel- 
low tra\ eller, in Newark. This town contained an academy, in the 
hall of which I afterwards preached. We spent the night most 
agreeably, and although I expected to pursue the residue of my 
journey alone, my slumbers were unbroken through the night, and 
I arose happy in the thought, that I was enabled to cast my care 
upon God. 

Here my friend, after commending me to the protection of Hea- 
ven bade me adieu. I tarried until breakfast was over, when 1 re- 
quested my horse : it was brought to the door. I took the bridle 
iii my hand. Prudence again was ready with her expostulations : 
4 Well, and what are you to do now ? you have been thus far brought 
on by an obliging friend ; you have fifty miles more to ride, through 
a country, not an individual in which you have ever seen, and you 
have not a penny in your pocket.'' Again, I say, am I not here, as 
in Philadelphia, under the care of that beneficent Being, who holds 
the universe in His hands ? I will goon. Just as I raised my foot 



152 



LIFE OF RET. JOHN MURRAY. 



to the stirrup, the master of the house appeared. ' One word, sir y 
if you please ; step in for a moment.' I once more entered the hos- 
pitable dwelling. 1 You will, I hope, excuse me, sir ; but, ever since 
1 left my bed this morning, I have been strongly excited to do, what 
however I am afraid to mention, and what I had concluded I would 
not venture to do. But when I saw you in the act of mounting 
your horse, I could no longer withstand an irresistible impression, 
which impels me to ask your acceptance of this trifle:' — putting in- 
to my hands abundantly sufficient to bring me to the end of my 
journey. « You may not want this, sir ; but you may meet with 
some individual, who does.' Could my spirit, at this moment, for- 
bear ecstatic prostration before the throne of my God and Father? 
This was manifestly another instance of the interposition of my 
Divine Master. It was He, who has the hearts of all in His hand, 
that had thus disposed the heart of this man. I could not forbear 
felicitating him on being appointed to distribute. I communicated 
to him my real circumstances, while tears of pleasure gushed into 
his eyes. He would then have made an addition to the gratuity; 
but this I resolutely refused : I had enough for my present purpose, 
and more than enough would have been burdensome. I went on 
from this place, with inexpressible delight, my soul warmly dispos- 
ed to magnify the Lord, and to trust Him at all times, not being 
afraid. My faith, by these manifestations thus invigorated and re- 
newed, I rejoiced in the good pleasure of my God ; my way was 
made clear before me, and I nothing doubted that my journey 
would be crowned with success. This day was indeed a happy 
day ; I shall certainly never, so long as memory shall continue its 
office, recur to it without the most pleasurable emotions. 

Upon the evening of this memorable day, I arrived at the end of 
my journey, and I was received by the physician, whose letter of 
earnest solicitation had brought me thus far, with many demonstra- 
tions of joy. I was, however, greatly surprised ^to find a person, 
who I understood was master of a large fortune, plain, if not penu- 
rious, both in his house', furniture, and apparel ; but, if I was disap- 
pointed by the appearance of the man and his dwelling, I was 
abundantly more so, by his conversation, from which 1 learned, that 
he had been imposed upon by the accounts he had received of me ; 
he had been made to believe I was, for matter, and manner, a sec- 
ond Whitefield. My heart sunk, as I reflected what I had to expect 
from a gentleman thus circumstanced. I beheld before me a self- 
righteous Calvinist; and I believed, when he discovered (as I was 
determined he immediately should) the amount of my testimony, 
he would sincerely repent, that he hacl summoned me to his abode, 
and that 1 should, in consequence, have much to suffer. The house 
afforded no spare bed, and, of course, I lodged, I cannot say slept, 
with my host. The whole night was devoted to conversation, and 
I embraced the first pause to inform him, that I once viewed the 
Deity, and the creature man, precisely as they now appeared to 
him ; but that a complete revolution had been wrought in my mind. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



153 



.'Sir, I once believed the faithful Creator had called into existence 
by far the greatest number of humain beings, with no other inten- 
tion, than to consign them to endless misery, rescuing only a few 
respected persons, from a state of sin and suffering. You will, my 9 
dear sir, probably regret that you have invited me hither, when I 
inform you, that the Christ, in whom I trust, and the gospel, which 
I preach, is not the Christ of whom you expected to hear, nor the 
gospel you supposed I should preach. The Christ, in whom I 
formerly confided, was a. partial Saviour; but the Christ, in whom 
I now trust, is the Saviour of the world. The gospel, you have 
been accustomed to hear, and which you expected 1 should preach, 
is a partial gospel, conveying the glad tidings of eternal life in Christ 
Jesus only to an elected few. The gospel, I preach, is glad tidings 
to every individual of the human race ; assuring them that, in 
Christ, the promised seed, all the nations, all the families of the earth 
shall be blessed. I fear, sir, that not being accustomed to the min- 
istry of the reconciliation, committed to the apostles, to wit, that 
<3od was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imput- 
ing unto them their trespasses; that, when all mankind like sheep 
had gone astray, the Lord, the offended God, laid upon Jesus ilie 
iniquities of us all, that he might put them away by the sacrifice of 
himself, that they might thus, as a mill-stone, be cast into the 
depths of the sea, and be found no more at all; that Jesus thus per- 
forming the will of God, the world may ultimately heboid him in 
his true character, as the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin 
of the world ; thus becoming the Saviour of all men, — not in, but 
from their sins. 1 fear, my good sir, that when you hear me thus 
preaching the gospel, which God himself preached to Abraham, 
and w hich he testified by the mouth of all his holy .prophets ever 
since the world began, your disappointment will be grievous. I 
know, sir, you have not been accustomed to hear of Universal Love, 
of boundless compassion ; and these sounds may make you as angry, 
as they have made many cf our brethren in every age. Here 1 
made a full pause, continuing for a few moments in .painful sus- 
pense. I was, however, soon relieved. ' JNo, sir, you have noth- 
ing to fear from me ; for although the things, of which you speak, 
have never entered into my head or heart, jet, give me leave to assure 
you, it will never give me pain to know, that God's ways are not 
as my ways, nor his thoughts as my thoughts. My mind is so far 
from revolting at the tidings you bear, that nothing would give me 
more unutterable joy, than to be assured of their truth.' Thus was 
my mind exonerated from a weight of dread apprehension. 1 ask- 
ed him, what assurance he couid either wish for, or expect ? ' Noth- 
ing more than a "Thus saith the Lord.'" I continued, through 
the residue of the night, preaching the gospel, according to the 
scriptures; and it pleased Almighty God so to furnish my mind 
with testimonies, drawn from the sacred volume, that I went on, 
from Genesis to Revelations, until the morning dawned upon us. 
Hut a brighter morning dawned upon the long-benighted mind of my 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY, 



wondering hearer ; he exhibited, what he said he experienced, rap- 
ture before unknown. He was, indeed, as one, brought out ofrtark- 
ness into marvellous light, and from the power of Satan, unto God, 
I never before saw so great a change, wrought in so short a time. He 
gave me a sketch of his life, which had been employed in seeking 
to accumulate riches, and righteousness. The former he had gained, 
but the latter he had not; and he was constrained to confess, that if the 
wealth, he had taken such unwearied pains to obtain, and to keep, 
were no better in the sight of man, than his righteousness was in his 
own estimation, and in the estimation of his God, he had been all his 
life laboring in vain, and spending his strength for nought. By com- 
merce, and the practice of physic, the Doctor had acquired a for- 
tune of f orty thousand pounds sterling ; yet, from the appearance of 
the man, we should have concluded his resources extremely limited. 
His offspring were only one son, and one daughter; his wife was 
no more ; his son a prodigal ; his daughter a married woman, in eli- 
gible circumstances, and of a most amiable character. The Doc- 
tor was far advanced in life, and although he had been uniformly 
employed in getting and hiding money, yet he was so religious a 
man, as to part with four hundred pounds sterling toward building 
a meeting-house ; and he was greatly mortified, at not being able to 
obtain permission for me to preach therein, though he went so far,, 
as to assure those, who had the care of the house, that he would 
put it in complete repair, if he might be indulged with the pleasure 
of hearing who he pleased in the pulpit, when it was not other- 
wise occupied. But the. Presbytery had given orders, that no per- 
son should be admitted into any of their meetings, without a letter 
of license, first had and obtained from that body. 'So,' said the 
Doctor, ' let God send, by whom He will send, the sent of God can 
obtain no admission ; but those, whom the Presbytery think proper 
to send, must be admitted everywhere ! Is not this rank pricstcraftV 
But although the doors of every house of worship, in that neigh- 
borhood, were shut against us, many private houses were devoted 
to us, and the Doctor was indefatigable in striving to spread abroad 
the savour of the Redeemer's name. His soul was so highly 
wrought, by the discoveries he had made, that he most ardently de- 
sired to make all men acquainted with the grace, in which they 
stood. 

The Doctor was a man of uncommon abilities ; his mind was 
highly cultivated ; I never knew a finer speaker. He was well ac- 
quainted with the religion of the world, and, possessing a happy 
facility of manifesting his knowledge, when it pleased God to 
show him his salvation, — when he had power given him to believe 
with his heart the word of God, which giveth life unto all men, — 
from the abundance of his believing heart, his mouth became full 
of the praises of his God ; and wherever he went, so often as oppor- 
tunity offered, be delighted to magnify the name of the Redeemer : 
spreading far and wide, to the utmost of his abilities, the truth as it 
is in Jesus, the glad tidings of the gospel. Every body who knew 



LIFS OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



155 



the man, was astonished ; for, strange to tell, he became liberal ; lib- 
eral of that, with which he had heretofore found it so difficult to part ; 
he could part with his money; and, among numerous instances of 
his generosity, I myself was an example. He saw my vestments 
were rather worn, they could not last always, and he ordered me 
a complete suit of superfine broadcloth. I looked at the Doctor, at 
his garments, much worse than mine. I am really astonished, said 
I. 4 Not more than I am myself, sir. I have for a whole year been 
perfectly aware, that I wanted raiment, yet I could not find it in my 
heart to purchase even those articles of which I stood in most need : 
but, sir, 1 do indeed behold my former self with detestation.' 1 con- 
tinued with the Doctor for several weeks; he accompanied me from 
place to place, enjoying abundantly more than the world could give 
or take away ; and his numerous connexions were partakers of his 
felicity. For myself I had rich opportunities of preaching the gos- 
pel of the kingdom, and my pleasures were proportioned to the sat- 
isfaction, which I was instrumental in communicating. But it be- 
came necessary I should return to Philadelphia, and the Doctor 
was exceedingly affected; yet, previous to my final departure, 1 had 
engaged to preach at an Episcopalian church, at some distance, 
where it was believed a large concourse of people would be assem- 
bled. But on Saturday evening, the wind being north-west brought 
on so severe a frost, that the ensuing day, Sunday, February 14th, 
1773, was by far the coldest day I had ever experienced. 

I was, however determined to keep my appointment, and I rode 
six miles on horseback, accompanied by a gentleman, who had 
conceived for me the strongest afFection ; and we derived so much 
pleasure, from the divine subjects, which engaged our attention, 
that we hardly adverted either to the severity of the day, or the 
distance; and rny fellow-traveller, in the fulness of his heart, de- 
clared, did it depend upon him, we would ride on till the clos? of 
time, and then leap into eternity together. The cold, however, 
was sufficiently piercing to compel us to assemble in the sr-hool- 
iiouse, instead of the church, where a large chimney, and a blazing 
hearth, hardly kept us from freezing; yet was my own heart, and 
the hearts of many of my hearers, warmed by that fire of divine 
love, enkindled by the word and spirit of our God; which spirit 
graciously vouchsafed to take of the things of Je.-us, and show, 
them unto us, giving us not only peace, but joy, unspeakable joy, 
in believing. J proposed departing for Philadelphia, on the follow- 
ing Monday ; but the Doctor and his friends prevailed upon me 
to tarry a day or two longer, in which time he labored hard to per- 
suade me to continue with him. ' Only,' said he, ' consent to abide 
here, and I will very cheerfully build for you as handsome a church 
as any in the country, and it shall be your own. I will devote ten 
of the forty thousand pounds, which I possess, to this purpose. I 
thanked him, most cordially, for his flattering offer ; but added, that 
the tender of his whole estate would be no temptation to me to ac- 
cept a permanent residence. My mind was, at that time f solemnly 



156 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



impressed by a conviction, that I was sent out to preach the gos- 
pel ; and that, as the servant of God, I must neither loiter by the 
way, nor seek to evade the spirit of my commission. An imposing 
sense of duty compelled me to say, that, so long as I was able, I 
would submit to the will of my Master. Upon the night previous 
to my departure, we had little sleep. We expatiated with pleasing 
worider upon the mysterious ways of Heaven, and we poured out 
our souls in prayer to that God, who, having brought us together 
had caused us to drink into one spirit. The morning came, when, 
after commending ourselves to God, and to the word of his grace, 
I was on the point of departing, in the same manner I had left 
Philadelphia, yet, without even the vesiige of apprehension. But 
the Doctor, taking me by the hand, essayed to articulate; but was 
necessitated to pause for self-possession, when he said : ' God for- 
ever bless you, and be with you ; and wherever you go, make your 
way plain before you ; and, if we never meet again in this worlds 
(for l am an old man, you know) I rejoice in the assurance, that 
we shall meet in the presence of God, our Saviour, and spend an 
eternity together. He then put into my hand gold sufficient, abun- 
dantly sufficient, to bear my expenses even to the dwelling of my 
patron. 'You may want this upon the road,' said he; 'take this 
as a memento of friendship.' I am, dear sir, amazed at your liber- 
ality. ' I also am amazed — It is the Lord's doings, and truly, it is 
marvellous in my eyes.' Thus closed my visit to my worthy friend, 
after I had promised, that, if it should so please God, I would 
cheerfully visit him again. 

On my return, being earnestly solicited, I preached in the hall of" 
the Academy at Newark ; and I once more reposed under the roof 
of that hospitable-man, who was made the instrument of adminis- 
tering to my necessities, on my way. At Wilmington too, I deliv- 
ered my message ; and, elevated by an excursion, which had been 
so greatly blessed, I returned to Philadelphia in perfect health, and 
high spirits. .During the residue of the spring, the whole of the 
succeeding summer, and a part of the autumn, until October, 1773, 
my time was divided between Pennsylvania, the Jersies, and New 
York. My friends were to be found among every class of people, 
from the highest to the most humble, and almost every day in- 
creased the number, both of my friends and enemies. The clergy 
continued a phalanx of opposition. One good man stumbled up- 
on a most ingenious device. A Mr. Still, a Baptist priest, wrote a 
most elaborate letter, in which he charged me with many crimes, 
assuming as facts, those reported crimes, which my soul abhorred. 
This letter lie read in every company, in which he mixed ; sent 
copies of it to New-England, and various other parts of the coun- 
try ; giving those, to whom he made his communications, to un- 
derstand, that he had forwarded this letter to me, although / never 
saw it, and was indebted for an account of its contents, to some 
Worthy individuals, who were among the number of those, to whom, 
it was read. Thus did this man industriously essay to prejudice 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



157 



the minds of the people, trusting that their hatred of me, and my 
testimony, would, if possible, be commensurate with his own; and 
thus, at his righteous tribunal, I was tried and condemned, and, as 
far as he could prevail, executed, without being suffered to plead 
in my own defence, or even furnished with a copy of the allega- 
tions against me. Had J not reason to supplicate : Grant me, O 
my God! patient resignation, and the divine light of thy counte- 
nance. Yet the character, priest, and adversary, did not always 
prove synonymous. A clergyman, upon a memorable evening, en- 
tered a house of public worship, in which 1 was promulgating the 
truth as it was in Jesus. He presented himself with a determina- 
tion to oppose me ; but quitting the church, and entering my lodg- 
ings, he folded me in his arms, exclaiming (while his eye glistened 
with pleasure,) ' If this be heresy, may I so worship the God of my 
fathers, during the residue of my days.' Nor was this a solitary in- 
stance; Mr. Duchee,* minister of the established church;, of Phila- 
delphia, Mr. Tretard, of New-Rochelle, Mr. Gano, of New- York, 
Mr. Tyler,f Episcopalian minister of Norwich, were among the 
number of those, who, if they were not fully with me in sentiment 
have uniformly discharged toward me the duty of Christian friends. 
My opportunities of observing uncommon characters were multi- 
plied. I regret, that the limits, I have prescribed to myself, will 
not permit me to dwell upon the life and virtues of Thomas Say, 

* We have recently seen an anecdote of Rev. Mr. Duchee, published 
in the ' Philadelphia Liberalist,' of Nov. 24, 1832. It occurs in an obit- 
uary notice of Mr. Anthony Cuthbert, one of the early Universalists of 
that city. 

' Parson Duchee, of the Episcopal church, was an intimate acquaint- 
ance and friend of Mr. C.'s father, and often visited him. — They held 
frequent conferences in a private room ; and it was a considerable time 
before Mr. C. could ascertain the objeet they had in view. He at length, 
in the absence of his father, entered the apartment to which they so 
frequently retired, and found on the table Paul Siegvolck's ' Everlast- 
ing Gospel ' — (an edition of which had been printed at Germantovvn,in 
1753, by Christopher Sower, and, as was supposed, at the suggestion 
of Dr. George De Benneville.) Mr. C. subsequently learned from his 
father, that Mr. Duchee and himself entertained no doubt of the truth 
of the doctrine maintained by Siegvolck — but they thought the time 
had not then arrived for the public proclamation of the sentiment. Mr. 
C. thought differently ; and, on all suitable occasions, expressed his be- 
lief in the final reconciliation of all things to the dominion of love. 

' It is more than probable that Mr. C. was one of the hearers and 
friends of John Murray, on the first arrival ia Philadelphia of that emi- 
nent servant of the Lord, in 1772 or '73.' 

t Rev. John Tyler. He continued until his death pastor of the church 
in Norwieh, (Con). He published anonymously six discourses in favor 
of Mr. Murray's sentiments, entitled ' Universal Damnation and Sal- 
vation, clearly proved by the scriptures of the Old and New Testa- 
ments.' They form a very interesting defence of Universalism, upon 
the Rellyan principles. — Mod. Hist. Universalism, p. 358. T. W. 

14* 



158 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



of Philadelphia ; a man, who, it may be said, re- visited this worhf, 
after being privileged with more than a bird's-eye view of another."* 
Anthony Benezet might also daim many pages.f Christopher 
Marshall; the celebrated Mrs. Wright, and her uncommon family J 
many shades of departed friends flit before me, but I must hasten 
from the now beatified group, and pursue the sometimes rugged 
path, over which the journey of life hath conducted me. 

Upon the 10th of October, 1773; I embarked on board the Hum- 
bird, captain Lawton, for Newport, which place we reached at 
early breakfast, and where I was received in a manner comporting 
with my most sanguine wishes. Belcher, Warner, Otis, Newton, 
Wright, Wanton, Waterhouse, Ellery, &e. &c, these all received 
me with open arms; but having reason to believe, much confusion 
would result from an attempt to open the doors of the meeting- 
house, in which Dr. Stiles officiated, I sent the Doctor an assur- 
ance, that I would no more enter his pulpit. The Governor grant- 
ed the state-house to the solicitations of my friends, and became 
himself one of my audience. 1 preached also in the meeting-house 
of Mr. Kelly, and at the prison. The congregations were crowd- 
ed, and attentive. 

Newport contains a synagogue, and the many Jews collected 
there, pressed to hear. Mr. Lopez, an opulent gentleman among 
the Jews, celebrated as well for humanity as for mercantile 
knowledge, met me at the door of the state-house, and, pressing 
my hand, said, 'God Almighty be with you, sir, and bless and pre- 
serve you wherever ycu go, — giving you good success always,' he 
would have added, but his overflowing heart evidently denied him 
utterance. The Jews were generally pleased. They declared they 
had never before heard so much in favor of Christianity. Poor 
hearts! They would see the things which belong to their peace, 

* Thomas Say was a Universalist. — See his Life, written by his son, 
Phil. 17! '6, pp. 5, 44, 93, 94, 105, and others. He was a highly benevo- 
lent, and, in other respects, good man, but of a visionary mind. When 
a young man he supposed himself to have had a trance, in which he 
visited the abode of the blessed on high, but was not permitted to re- 
main. A full account is given of this in the book to which we have re- 
ferred, with the proofs, to which, if any one has a desire to examine the 
subject, 1 direct his attention. • 

1 Mr. Murray had reason to congratulate himself on the acquaintance 
and friendship of Benezet. He was a citizen of Philadelphia, and an 
eminently good man. His life was spent in the education of youth. 
He was author of a ' Caution to Great Britain and her Colonies,' J 767, 
' An historical account of Guinea, with an Inquiry on the slave trade,' 
1772, 8vo- His whole life was employed in acts of charity, and his 
death therefore was universally lamented. Several hundred negroes 
attended his funeral ; and an American officer who had been engaged 
in tbe continental war, returning from his funeral, exclaimed, 'that he 
had rather be Anthony Benezet in that coffin, than George Washington 
with all his glory.' s > T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



159 



if the appointed time of the Father were come ; in this their day 
are they hidden from their eyes: but the day of the Lord eometh, 
when whatever is hidden shall be revealed. 

I was solicited to take up my abode at Newport, and assured, if 
I would so do, a place of public worship should be erected for my ac- 
commodation. These good people learned, that I had been necessi- 
tated to part with my horse, for the purpose of defraying the expenses, 
attendant upon re-printing specimens of apostolic preaching, select- 
ed from the writings of Mr. Kelly; and they insisted upon pur- 
chasing me another. Nor was this all ; they helped me on my 
way, contributing abundantly, by private gratuities, to the relief of 
my necessities. Mr. Ward, secretary to the then province of 
Rhode Island, with many others, were, upon this my second visit, 
added to the number of my friends. A member of Dr. Stiles' 
church informed me, it was affirmed, I had absolutely said, all men 
should be saved. I assured him, I had never said, all men should 
be saved ; I had said, Jesus roots and rs the Saviour of all men; 
and that, in the fulness of time, he would gather together all things 
into one,— bringing in his ancient people, the Jews, and with them 
the fulness of the Gentiles, — causing all flesh to come and worship 
before him, — and making of Jew and Gentile Oj\e new man, so 
making peace ; and that all the kingdoms of the world should 
become the kingdoms of God and of His Ghnst. I publicly invit- 
ed any individual in Newport, who had aught to say against the 
testimony I delivered, to meet me in an open manner, the bible in 
his hand; and if the arguments he should produce were more 
consistent with the sacred writings, I would upon the spot, in the 
most unreserved manner, acknowledge and renounce my errors. 

Quitting Newport, I took passage for East Greenwich. A 
fellow passenger told me, he had been informed I had said, Our 
sins were laid upon the Devil; and that there was nothing tor us 
to do; and he wished to know, if J believed either the one or the 
other? Certainly not, I replied ; it was not the Devil, but the 
Redeemer, on whom the Lord laid the iniquities of us all. I assured 
him, we had many things in our various characters to perform, to 
which it was our bound-en duty to attend ; and that those, who 
continued in offences, would be experimentally able to say, 'Truly, 
the way of the transgressor is hard ;' for, assuredly, they would be 
chastised with many stripes. My appearance at East Greenwich 
was welcomed by Mr. Varnum, and others. Several gentlemen, 
whom I had not before known, called upon me at Mr. Varnum's; 
among these was Mr. Hawkins, who questioned me, and appeared 
satisfied with my answer; he introduced me to his friends, Mr. 
Green, &c. I preached, in the court-house, to a crowded audi- 
ence. The superior court was then in session; the judges', and 
the lawyers were among my hearers. 1 was laboring under great 
indisposition, but God was with me. Esquire Casey took me to his 
house, where I was met by judge Potter lor the purpose of conver- 
sation, tie said, he had never been pleased with pulpit exhibitions 



160 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



because they were so replete with contradictions, and he was 
determined to sift me thoroughly. We passed the night together; 
he performed what he had proposed, with candor, and appeared 
satisfied with the result. At parting, he earnestly wished me suc- 
cess, and prayed that I might be preserved from the power of the 
priest, and the flatterer. This gentleman continued to evince 
great affection for me; he seemed to understand and feel the 
power of the gospel ; — I had not seen his superior. At this period, 
1 was desirous of extending my tour as far as Boston : but, not- 
withstanding the repeated manifestations of divine protection, with 
which I had been favored, a reluctance to venturing on untried 
scenes was gradually pervading my spirit, and I was again ready 
to ask, What am I to do in Boston ? Yet I added : O ! my unbe- 
lieving heart, who shall deliver me from this body of sin and 
death ? Blessed be God, who is faithful. Passing an hour at Mrs. 
Green's, I was introduced to a lady from Boston, a Mrs. Hubbard ; 
she questioned me upon the doctrine of reprobation, particularly 
that passage, which expressly asserts, 'Jacob have I loved, and 
Esau have 1 hated.' My answers were so much to her satisfac- 
tion, that she gave me a pressing invitation to her house in Boston; 
and as I contemplated a journey thither, she prayed me to take a 
letter to Mr. Hubbard, and to make his dwelling my abode, during 
my continuance in the metropolis of Massachusetts. From East 
Greenwich I proceded to Pawtuxet, delivering my message in 
their house of worship ; and from thence I repaired to Providence, 
where 1 was received by those, who had before bade me welcome, 
with continued kindness. Immediately on my arrival, a summons 
to pass the evening with the Rev. Mr. Snow was presented me ; I 
delayed not to attend him, and I was accompanied by Mr. Binney, 
a young gentleman of great promise. Mr. Snow's parlor was 
nearly filled by the members of his church and congregation. A 
long and solemn pause succeeded the usual ceremonies of intro- 
duction ; Mr. Snow at length broke silence by observing: ' We are, 
sir, perfectly aware, that by far the greater part of the town are 
anxious to hear you; and, as our house is the most convenient, 
we presume application will be made for its use. But, since you 
were last here, a few of our members have heard strange reports 
respecting you : (viz.) That you believe all mankind will be 
saved ; and that the new birth is not in us, but in Christ. 1 have, 
therefore, thought proper to call together several of my church, 
that they may have an opportunity of speaking to you, and deter- 
mining whether they think proper to open their doors. Do you, 
sir, believe that all mankind will be saved ?' I believe, Jesus Christ 
is the Saviour of all men ; that, by the grace of God, he tasted death 
for every man ; that he is the propitiation fur the sins of the whole 
world; and that God was, in Christ, reconciling the ivorld unto 
Himself, not imputing unto them their trespasses. ' Well, and do 
on believe, that all are saved?' Not as unbelievers ; they, who 
elieve not, are damned. ' How then are they interested in Jesus ? 



LITE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



161 



Precisely as they were in the first Adam. ' But all are not interest- 
ed in Jesus as they were in the first Adam.' How then doth it ap- 
pear, that as, by the offence of one man judgment came upon all men to 
condemnation, so by the righteousness of one, the free gift came upon all 
men to justification of life ? ' And do you, sir, believe that, in conse- 
quence of this, all will be finally happy ? ' Do you, sir, believe all 
who learn of the Father will be happy ? 'O yes.' And do you 
believe all will be taught of God, and come to Jesus, and be saved? 
'No, indeed.' Do ministers in general believe this? 'No, we 
know they do not. Why then do they pray for it? Do they not 
pray, that God would hasten the happy time, when he shall bring 
in his ancient people, the Jews, and with them the fulness of the 
Gentiles; that all the kingdoms of the world may become the king- 
doms of God and of His Christ ; that they may all be taught of 
God, from the least unto the greatest? For this, and much more, 
clergymen repeatedly pray : and can we suppose they are dealing 
hypocritically with their God? are they such monsters of impiety, 
as to solicit, for what, they believe the Almighty had determined, 
before the foundation of the world, he would never grant? A 
profound pause succeeded; after which, I was asked: 'Do you, 
sir, believe the New Birth is in us, or in Christ?' He, who is born 
of God, sinneth not. But if we say we have no sin, we deceive our- 
selves, and the truth is not in us. He, who is born of God, is a new 
creature ; all old things are passed away, and all things are become 
new ; a good man, o ut of the good treasury of his heart, bringeth not 
forth good and evil, but good, only good. I conceive, therefore, that 
to be born again, or, as it may be rendered, to be born anew, or 
born from above, alludes to the birth of the human family in the 
person of Christ Jesus, we being members of his body. Hence 
the sacred record decidedly pronounces : Created anew in Christ 
Jesus. ' Well, that is scripture, to be sure.' Are we Christ Jesus? 
'No, certainly.' Then, can being created anew, in Christ Jesus, be 
understood as being created anew, in ourselves? A part of the 
company discovered, great bitterness^ others were more calm. I 
requested them to observe, that, if they reported me as a heretic, 
they must remember they smote me through Paul's skirts, for I 
had delivered no sentiments of my own fabrication ; I had merely 
rehearsed in their ears the unadulterated language of revelation ; I 
therefore begged I might be honestly reported. 

One gentleman declared, that whether 1 deemed it honest or not, 
h<e should report me as a heretic. I then insisted he should declare 
what heresy was. He said I was against the gospel. I requested he 
would say what gospel was ? He replied it is whatever is found in 
the New Testament. I appealed to the company, whether this waa 
either fair or true ? whether there were not many particulars in the 
New Testament, which were not gospel ? and whether the gospel 
was not preached to Abraham ? or whether the gospel was not 
God's good sayings, or glad tidings to all people ? Whether 1 had 
said any thing contrary to this, or proposed any way of salvation, be- 
iide Christ Jesus? or whether 1 had privily strove to bring in such 



162 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



a damnable doctrine, as to deny the Lord who bought them ? They 
were all dumb. At length Mr. Snow said : ' Well my friends, you 
know the reason of my calling you together, and you can now de- 
termine respecting Mr. Murray's again entering our pulpit. 1 would 
have you freely deliver your sentiments. One said the people wish- 
ed to hear, and there was no house so convenient as theirs ; ha 
could see no reason why I should not preach. Another objected. 
His conscience would not allow him to consent. A third remark- 
ed, the people would go to hear me, preach where I would ; sup- 
pose I was wrong, I could not contaminate the house ; for his part, 
he did not see that 1 had said any thing that had been proved erro- 
neous; that he most devoutly blessed God he had been present, for 
lie had received more light, than he had ever before enjoyed ; and 
many united their acknowledgments with his. I assured them it 
was my solemn determination to preach nothing but Christ Jesus, 
and him crucified for every human being. Finally, they determined 
to open their doors for my reception; and thus, by permission of 
minister and people, I again and again addressed a vast multitude 
from the pulpit of of the Rev. Mr. Snow, of Providence, and my 
hearers appeared serious and attentive. 

During my continuance in Providence, 1 became acquainted with 
Doctor Huse, of that place, a very uncommon man, and as it ap- 
peared to me, of a very luminous intellect. Bidding me God s|>ecd, 
he added : 'Sir, I rejoice that you dare be honest: how long you 
will continue so, I know not. At present you are boldly facing dan- 
ger, and without fear. Continue, 1 beseech you, to declare unmix- 
ed truth, although all men should be against you. On the 2b'th of 
October, 1773, I took a seat in the stage for Boston. Late upon the 
evening of that day, we reached town. I had a letter from Mrs. 
Hubbard, and another for a gentleman, a Major Paddock ; but I 
was unwilling to disturb strangers at an hour so improper for a first 
introduction, and the old question recurred ; ' What are you to do 
now ? ' The passengers one after another were dropped ; 1 remain- 
ed alone in the coach, and the coachman civilly questioned : ' Where 
will you be set down, sir ? ' Can you recommend to me a decent 
tavern ? While he deliberated, a son of Mrs. Hubbard accosted 
him : ' Is Mr. Murray in the coach ? ' ' Yes, sir.' He approached 
the door. ' My mother, sir, has written to my father respecting you, 
and we have been looking out for you with great impatience. All 
was immediately settled ; and thus 1 was met, in Boston, by the 
good providence of God, while my throbbing heart exclaimed, To 
the Lord belongeth mercy ; and praise and thanksgiving are his 
righteous due. 

By Mr. Hubbard I was received with great kindness ; he was an 
innocent, honest man, and his family were truly friendly. Upon the 
ensuing morning 1 delivered my letter to M;tjor Paddock, whose re- 
ception of me was such as a stranger ought to expect, coolly civil ; 
he, however, introduced me to Mr. Williams, a respectable, philan- 
thropic gentleman, strongly attached to the writings of Jacob Bhe* 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



163 



men. To Mr, Williams I have most gratefully to acknowledge a 
series of most important and essential obligations. Measures were 
soon in train for the purpose of procuring a place in which I might 
be allowed to deliver my testimony ; but every effort was inefieeiu- 
al, until the following Saturday, October 30th. In this interval, I 
received from Mr. Thomas Handasyde Peck, a polite invitation to 
dine. Mr. Peck was a very respectable man, and his lady a most 
valuable woman ;* they were unwearied in contributing to the ut- 

* The acquaintance thus formed with Mr. Peck was the means of ad- 
vancing Mr. Murray rapidly into notice. That gentleman had been aa 
admirer of Mr. Whitefield, and, hearing of the arrival of Mr. Murray, 
and of his haying been a preacher in Y\ hitefield's connexion, he solic- 
ited an interview. Mr. Peck was a warm Christian, of a benevolence 
easily touched, and ardent in his passions. Mr. Murray related on his 
first interview, an account of his landing at Good Luck, the circum- 
stances of his reception by Potter, and his subsequent labors and suffer- 
ings. By this narrative, and his entertaining manners, his interesting 
style of preaching, and the benevolent doctrine he taught, he complete- 
ly captivated the family, and made them his steadfast iriends. 

Thomas Hasdasyde Peck was a gentleman of great integrity and 
respectability, and was the maternal grandfather of our present distin* 
guished citizen, Thomas Handasyde Perkins. lie and his wife were 
both natives of England ; but on the breaking out of the political diffi- 
culties between Great Britain and her colonies, he espoused, and of 
course with great ardor, the cause of the latter. Both Mr. Peck and his 
wife died in the early part of the revolution. The house in which he 
resided, and in which Mr. Murray preached, was on the left haud side 
of Merchant's Row, as you pass from State street to the market. On 
the western corner of State street and Merchant's Row stood the Gold- 
en Ball Tavern, near which, going on towards the market, a person 
would come to a court called Peck's Court; and at Ihe head of this 
court stood the mansion of the hospitable Thomas H. Peck. He had 
been a hatter by occupation, and was familiarly known by the title of 
' Honest Peck, the hatter.' The whigs were proud of him, and this ti- 
tle was bestowed upon him in a ballad, published in the midst of the 
political troubles. 

We take the liberty here to give publication to the following letter 
from Hon. Thomas H. Perkins, which with equal readiness and urbani- 
ty he furnished in reply to certain queries addressed to him. We trust 
he will excuse the use we have made of his name, and accept of this 
insufficient acknowledgment of his kindness. 

'Boston, March 16, 1833. 

' Mr. Thomas Whittemore : 

' Sir : Your letter of the 14th current, was received on the day it 
was written, but I could not answer it understandingly, without con- 
sulting my sister, Mrs. Sturgis, who lived nearer to the time and cir- 
cumstances respecting which you inquire. My own recollections are 
fresh on the subject of the intimacy of the late Rev. John Murray, in 
the family of my maternal grandfather, but 1 am not quite sure wheth- 
er my recollection carries me to the year before what was called ' The 
Siege,' or to the year '76, when it was raised. My sister says she rec- 



164 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



most of their abilities, to the relief of the sons and daughters of sor- 
row. Ranking among the admirers of Mr. Whitefield, they pos- 
sessed eminently the eharasieristic of his adherents — they were a- 
bundantly less bigoted than other lteligionists. In the agreeable 
family of Mr. Peck, I passed a most delightful day ; I related to 
them the manner of my coming to the house of ray patron, and 
I sketched for them the dealings of God with me, since he had call- 
ed me forth. They listened with silent astonishment ; and when 
I had finished, they praised God in my behalf. They were evident- 
ly pained that I could not obtain a place in which to preach ; and 
they added, if no other could be procured, they would open their 
own doors for this purpose. There were in Boston at this period, 
a few individuals who were immeasurably attached to the writings 
of Jacob Bhemen. Those persons looked down with pity on all 
those they had left behind, who were such infidels as not to ascribe 

ollects the intimacy of Mr. Murray in the family of Mr. Peck, as ear- 
ly as 1773, being the year she was married, and from which incident 
ehe is enabled to establish the date. She tells me that both our grand 
parents, and our own parents, professed the religious principles at that 
time held by Mr. Murray, and that they all died adhering to that belief. 
My grand parents died the summer of 1776 and 1777. Mr. Peck died 
first. His residence at his death, and for many years preceding, was in 
a house which stood in a square, approached by a court leading from 
Merchants' Row. At the corner of this court was the Golden Ball 
Tavern, which at that time was kept by Col. Marston, who afterwards 
kept the Bunch of Grapes, in State-street. Both those houses have 
long since been taken down to make room for improvements. I well 
remember that my grandfather permitted Mr. Murray to preach in the 
meeting-house, then standing in School-street, and that there were oc- 
casional contests between the supporters of Mr. Murray, and those who 
opposed him ; and that the preacher was at one time assailed not only 
by vehement speeches, but more solid arguments. 

' I was too young to be able to judge correctly of the characters of 
those who are the subject of this letter. The temper of my grandfather 
was irascible, and rather morose ; but he was always esteemed for his 
integrity. He was born in England, as was his wife ; but before and 
during the troubles, as they were called, he sided with, and was consid- 
ered an ultra whig. He remained in town during the whole time of the 
occupancy of it by the British, and, notwithstanding his politics, was 
well treated both by the governor and military men. 

' My grandmother has left a high character for piety, and great liber- 
ality toward all to whom she could afford aid, either in money or per- 
sonal kindness, for both which there was a great demand during the 
blockade of Boston. My own mother lives in the memory of many 
now living; and the recollection of her many virtues is cherished by 
her descendants. One of the last conversations she had on any subject, 
was the day previous to her death, with my wife; and in the course of 
it she repeated what she had often before testified, Iter belief in the doc- 
trine of universal salvation. Respectfully your obedient servant, 

< T. H. Perkins/ 



L!fE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



165 



fionor and glory to the inspired pages of this writer. I could not 
forbear experiencing great satisfaction from the consideration that 
Jesus Christ was made unto me wisdom. The adherents of Bhemen 
enjoyed their philosophical divinity very highly, delighting to wrap 
themselves about in a mysterious garment of unintelligible jargon. 
But thus it must ever be. Error will prevail until the appointed 
time of the Father shall usher the benighted mind into the clear 
shining of the full meridian of Divine Revelation. 

At the house of Major Paddock I met a member of Mr. Stillman's 
church, who seemed to conceive there would be little difficulty in 
overthrowing my plan ; to whom I observed^ that if any individual 
would unite with me in searching the scriptures, I would, suppos- 
ing there were not found in the book of God more positive asser- 
tions of final and universal redemption, than of final reprobation, 
pledge myself immediately to surrender my present soul-satisfying 
views. 'No one,' he replied, 'could take pleasure in the destruc- 
tion of mankind.' Why, do not you, sir? * No, sir.' Why, sir-? 
4 1 wonder you should ask such a question.' Why, sir, why should 
you not take pleasure in that in which God takes pleasure ? 1 God 
does not take pleasure in destruction, sir.' What, sir, and make in- 
dividuals on purpose to destroy them? and Almighty too — ruling 
in heaven above, and in earth beneath, as seeineth in his sight 
good ? Do you dare say, if you had power, no fellow-creature 
should be lost ; and dare you suppose that He who hath all power, 
both in heaven and in earth, hath not so much love as you, a finite 
being ? Will He say to you, Love your enemies, do good to those 
who hate you, and pray tor those who despitefuliy use you, — and 
will He not do likewise ? shall the disciple be above his Master, 
and the servant above his Lord ? He answered with a sigh, ' I can- 
not argue with you, sir ; that last observation has weight.' Ah, sir ! 
I continued, would that every individual were more intimately ac- 
quainted with that most elevating subject, the love of God to man, 
the never-beginning, never-ending love of God to man. This, sir, 
is a species of knowledge which doth not puff up; but it lifts up, 
as on eagles' wings, ever mounting, never tiring, but slill discover- 
ing new wonders, through the wasteless ages of eternity. But man, 
poor, fallen man, who in his present state is enmity against God, is 
ever measuring the love and compassion of Deity by his own scan- 
ty rule. Nay, by a rule which he would blush to acknowledge. I 
have frequently said that there is not a person of character upon 
this continent who would bear to be delineated, whatever charac- 
ter he sustains, as he thinks and speaks of the Most High. What 
father would choose to be supposed deficient in providing, to the 
extent of hi* power, every requisite aid to the beings he has been 
instrumental in introducing into existence ? It is confessed by all, 
that God is Almighty ; that he is a sovereign ; that he can do, and 
will do as he pleases ; and that no power can resist his will. It Is 
also said, That he willeth not the death, the eternal death of the 
sinner; that he willeth that man should be saved ; that he hath ap- 



166 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



pointed, and therefore sends out his servants to warn mankind, to 
eaK them to eternal blessedness, to persuade them to come, that all 
things are now ready. Ali this looks like love in God. But we are 
informed, the people called, have no knowledge of God ; that they 
are enmity against God, and that, not from a persuasion that God 
was, in Christ, reconciling them to himself; but because they do 
not know this, and therefore do not believe it ; that no man can come 
unto the Father, but by Jesus; that no man can come unto Jesus, 
except the Father draw him ; and that all who learn of the Father, 
come unto Jesus ; and all who come unto him, he will in no wise 
cast out. Are multitudes cast out forever? Then it is because 
they were not taught of God; for if they had learned of the Fa- 
ther, they would have come unto Jesus, and he would in no wise 
have cast them out. But did God attempt to teach them, and, find- 
ing it beyond his power, did he finally give them up? But is not 
God almighty? Yes; but he did not choose to stretch forth his 
Omnipotent arm. Why ? Because if he had, they must be saved, 
and he would leave them to the freedom of their own will. Did 
He not know the consequence would be their eternal damnation ? 

yes ; but this is perfectly right ; for, when he called they would 
not hear. Did he intend they should hear? We have nothing to 
do with that. Merciful God ! lift up the light of thy irradiating 
countenance upon the benighted family of man. 

Upon the evening of October 30th, 1773, 1 preached for the first 
time in Boston, in the hall of the factory.* My hearers were atten- 
tive, and after I had closed, several individuals addressed me, and 
with apparent kindness invited me to visit them at their houses. 
On the succeeding evening, (Sunday) I again preached in the hall : 
the congregation was too large for the place. My subject was 
Zechaiiah ix. 9. . The people were more affectionate than on the 
preceding evening ; many solicited me to tarry, and assured me 
that a better place should be provided for my accommodation. On 
Monday evening, November 1st, I preached to a select number at 
Mr. Peck's, who seemed to have the power of God among them. 
In consequence of a pressing solicitation from this gentleman, I 
took up my lodging in his hospitable mansion ; thus goodness and 
mercy continually followed me. From my beloved friend Binney, 

1 received repeated and affectionate letters, and I trusted this young 
gentleman would become an able advocate for the Redeemer. 

A Mr. Little, of Newburyport, united his earnest solicitations with 
a number of gentlemen, who importunately urged me to visit that 
place. I dared not refuse ; and parting with my affectionate friends 
in Boston, I accompanied Mr. Little and others in the stage for 
Newburyport. On our arrival, inquiries were made at the coach- 
side, if I was there ; and on being answered in the affirmative, a 
crowd collected. Mr. Parsons, the Presbyterian minister, a venera- 



* This was a large building, T understand, opposite the site where 
Park street church now stands. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ble looking gentleman, immediately visited me. and asked me ma- 
ny questions. Where I came from ? what clergymen I was ac- 
quainted with ? and what credentials I could produce? During 
his inquiries he discovered, as it appeared to me, some uneasiness at 
the idea of my preaching in his pulpit; I therefore hastened to in- 
form him that I was no priest, nor approved of by gentlemen of 
that order; that I professed myself somewhat acquainted with the 
salvation wrought out by Jesus Christ, and that wherever his provi- 
dence called me, I was willing to speak well of the name of the 
Redeemer; but I added that I had great reluctance in speaking in 
any place in opposition to the wishes of the officiating minister. 
Mr. Parsons replied \ The house was not his, it was the property 
of the people, and when it was not occupied, they had an indubita- 
ble right to invite who they pleased. Speaking of rny call to preach, 
whether ordinary or extraordinary, I observed 1 had both ; when 
he petulantly asked : ' Pray, can you speak with tongues ? ' It is 
possible I may, sir, with tongues that you may not understand. 
However, your question is as much against you, as against me. Je- 
sus says, among the many signs that shall follow those who believe, 
they shall heal the sick by laying hands upon them, and if they 
take up any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them. From these evi- 
dences, sir, perhaps it wouid be as hard for you to prove yourself 
even a believer, as for me to prove myself a preacher sent of God. 

While we were yet conversing, the bell was rung, and a large 
congregation assembled, among which Mr. Parsons himself attend- 
ed ; and 1 selected for my subject, Isaiah Iv. JO, 11. Agreeably to 
his earnest request, Mr. Little was my host; and upon the ensuing 
morning, (Saturday,) in consequence of a very polite invitation, I 
breakfasted with Mr. Parsons, and I was received by him, and his, 
very cordially ; his countenance brightened upon me, and he re- 
quested me to preach again in his church on that day : Nor was 
this all ; he walked with me to the pulpit, and sat with me there, 
while I preached preparatory to the communion, upon John xv. 
t%\ On the ensuing day (Sunday) by the request of Mr. Marsh, 
who was indisposed, I preached, both morning and evening, at his 
church. Several friends visited me at Mr. Little's, and we closed 
the day with prayer. I was rather surprised to learn, that I lodg- 
ed, at Mr. Little's, upon the very same bed, in which Mr. White- 
field had reposed ; and that I had preached in the pulpit, before 
which he was entombed. I continued in Newbury port, passing 
my time most pleasantly, a second Sunday; I preached, morning 
and evening, in the pulpit of Mr. Marsh ; I gave frequent lectures 
there, and in the meeting-house of Mr. Parsons, who always sat in 
the pulpit with me, and frequently entertained me most hospitably 
at his house. His lady appeared to merit a rank among the most 
accomplished of women ; she was highly social, sentimental, and 
pleasant. The circle of my friends in Newburyport was very re- 
spectable. Upon a lecture evening, after I had closed, an old, 
grey-headed man, a member of Mr. Parson's church, quitting his 



168 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MFRKAY. 



seat, addressed the congregation, and in a loud voice said : ' My 
friends, this is a servant of the living God, who is come from a far 
country, to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation. We have too 
long been in darkness; yea, our tongues have cleaved to the roofs 
of our mouths, and this man is sent to animate and renew our 
faith.' Many blessed God, they had seen and heard me ; and all 
this I imputed to a want of knowledge, relative to the extent of the 
glad tidings I promulgated. The Grace, Union, and Membership, 
upon which I expatiated, were admitted by every Calvinist, but 
admitted only for the elect; and when I repeated those glorious 
texts of scripture, Which indisputably proclaim the redemption of 
the lost world, — as I did not expressly say, My brethren, I receive 
these texts in the unlimited sense in which they are given, — they 
were not apprized, that I did not read them with the same con- 
tracted views, to which they had been accustomed. When they 
became assured of the magnitude and unbounded result, which I 
ascribed to the birth, life, and death of the Redeemer, their doors 
were fast closed against me. For myself, I was in unison with 
Mr. Relly, who supposed the gradual dawn of light would eventu- 
ally prove more beneficial to mankind, than the sudden burst of 
meridian day. Thus I was contented with proclaiming the truth 
as it is in Jesus, in scripture language only, — leaving to my hearers 
deductions, comments, and applications. 

While I continued at Newburyport, numerous solicitations pour- 
ed upon me, from various quarters; but, in haste to return to Phil- 
adelphia, I could only comply with the urgent importunities of 
several gentlemen from Portsmouth, to which place I journied on 
the 10th of November, 1773. I was received at Portsmouth with 
most flattering marks of kindness. The pulpit of the separate 
minister, Mr. Drown, then recently deceased, was thrown open to 
me; the congregations were large; my adherents were truly re- 
spectable, and I was earnestly urged to take up my residence among 
them. The meeting-house of Mr. Drown being too small, I was 
invited into the pulpit of Dr. Langdon,* in which I preached, two 
clergymen occupying seats therein. In Portsmouth I received 
many marks of friendship; my necessities were sought out, and 
removed; and the name of Clarkson, Morrison, Hart, and Drown, 
son of the deceased minister, were, on that first visit, among my 
most partial friends. I returned to Newburyport, accompanied by 
Mr. Morrison and Mr. Drown, and again delivered my testimony in 
the pulpits of the Rev. Mr. Parsons and Mr. Marsh. Mr. Parsons 
requested I would write to him from Philadelphia ; and on Wed- 
nesday, November 17th, I returned to Boston, where I learned, 
that a spirit of inquiry was in operation among my friends; that 
their bibles were in their hands; and that they were diligently em- 
ployed in searching the scriptures, to find whether these things 

* I have supplied Langdon for the initial. It was Rev. Samuel) 
Langdon, D. D., afterwards President of Harvard College. T. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



169 



were indeed so. Upon the evening of the 18th, I preached in the 
mansion of my venerable friend, Mr. Peck ; and I was distinguish- 
ed by him and his lady with even parental kindness : Mrs. Peck en- 
treating me to inform my mother, that I had found, in the new 
world, a second maternal friend. It was upon this occasion, that I 
audibly exclaimed : O God ! thou hast still continued my God, and 
my guide ; let me not forget to render praises unto Thee. 

At the period of which I am speaking, there in Boston were a 
number of Deists, who attended my labors. Their lender gave me 
frequent invitations to visit him ; he summoned his friends, with 
whom he united in expressing his abhorrence of the Apostle Paul. 
To this gentleman I dwelt upon the respectable proofs, by which 
the authenticity of scripture was supported, and I took leave to ob- 
serve, that he must have received the character of Paul from his 
enemies ; that Paul was indubitably a learned man, brought up at 
the feet of Gamaliel; that lie was celebrated as an orator; and that 
his morals were unimpeached. It was true, he was said to have 
advocated a most comfortless doctrine, — to have affirmed, that a 
few were elected to everlasting life ; while, by the same irreversi- 
ble decree, countless millions were consigned to remediless and 
never-ending misery. But, I added, sirs, believe it not ; for, verily, 
the doctrine, that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto 
himself, was uniformly proclaimed by our great Apostle. The 
doctrine of election is questionless to be found in the pages of this 
evangelical writer ; but reprobation is not a necessary consequence 
of election, nor does it appear in the writings of the Apostle to the 
Gentiles. A governor is elected by a commonwealth, a council, 
senators, representatives are elected ; but are the people therefore 
consigned to perdition ? Thus I went on, and my little audience 
with lifted hands exclaimed: 'This plan is worthy of a God ; and 
we felicitate you, dear sir, as the Ambassador of Deity.' The hall 
of the factory, and the dwelling of my friend being too small for 
the increasing congregation, Mr. Peck proposed I should publish a 
lecture in the meeting-house of Mr. Croswell,* of which he was 

* I have here supplied the name for the initial. This meeting-house, 
in the pulpit of which Mr. Murray was subsequently stoned, stood in 
School street, on the lot next east of that on which the meeting-house 
of the f Second Universalist Society' now stands. Rev. Andrew Cros- 
well was formerly the pastor of a church in Groton, Con. He was in- 
vited to remove to Boston, and take the charge of the Eleventh Congre- 
gational church. They soon purchased the house in School street, 
which had been formerly occupied by the French Protestants. Mr. 
Peck was one of the principal owners of the house, and supporters of 
Mr. Croswell; and it was at his request and importunity that Mr. Mur- 
ray preached there. Mr. C.'s society dwindled away : he became blind, 
and died, April 12, 1785, in the 77th year of his age. The society be- 
came extinct, and the meeting-house was sold to the Roman Catholics, 
who gathered a congregation about this time. They occupied it, we 
presume, until they removed to their new church in Franklin Place, 
15* 



170 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



the princi[)al support. I at first declined this proposal; but his re~ 
peated, and earnest solicitations, induced rne to preach in Miv 
Croswell's pulpit. In the hall of the Factory also, I again deliver- 
ed my message ; and on Friday, November 26th, I preached at 
Faneuil Hall: my subject, John viii, 36: If the Son, therefore, shall 
make you free, ye.shall be free indeed. The principal gentlemen of 
the town were among my audience, who heard me with great se- 
riousness. After lecture, many took me by the hand, and, urging 
me to return to them speedily, prayed, in the warmest manner, for 
my success, as a gospel promulgator. This was the last night of 
my abode in Boston, on my first visit. I passed it at Mr. Peck's, 
accompanied by some friends, and we devoted it to scriptural in- 
vestigations. My continuance in Boston was strongly urged ; but 
I was under the necessity of departing, and devotional prayers for 
my safety, success, and speedy return, were reiterated — such are 
my Credentials. I left Boston on Saturday, November 27; 
reaching Providence upon the evening of that day, where, again 
and again, I delivered my testimony in the pulpit of the Rev. Mr. 
Snow. Departing thence, on the Tuesday following, accompani- 
ed by my dear young friend, Mr. Binney, for East-Greenwich, I 
met some very dear friends, and, as iron sharpeneth iron, so was 
my countenance brightened, and my spirit soothed and cheered. 

From this period, November 30th, until the close of January, 
1774, when I reached my lodging-place, at the house of my patron, 
I moved slowly on, preaching glad tidings in various places, friends 
and enemies still multiplying. At New-London my opportunities 
of preaching were repeated and the number of my treasures pro- 
portionally augmented ; Hertell, Whey, Trueman, these were of the 
true circumcision, who worshiped God in the spirit, rejoicing in 
Christ Jesus, and having no confidence in the flesh ; and my orisons 
were daily offered up to the God of all consolation, that the num- 
ber of such genuine believers might be increased. I delight to 

since which it has been demolished. — Snow's Hist, of Boston. 1826. pp. 
201, 232,240. . 

Mr. Croswell was generally regarded as a highly bigoted and censo- 
rious divine. Hon. Benjamin Russell, for many years the editor of the 
4 Boston Centinel,' has informed me that a poem was once sent him for 
publication in that paper, containing a description of every clergyman 
then preaching in Boston. One of them heard of it, and sent him a bil- 
let, requesting the privilege of perusing it; whereupon it was loaned to 
him. He read it, and found himself alluded to in favorable terms ; but 
as there was much severity in regard to certain individuals, and as it 
wjis written by one of his friends, he incurred the anger of Mr. Russell 
by burning it. Croswell was described in the following manner : 

1 Sour, croakinor Croswell, armed with fire and fury, 

Consigns to hell, without a judge or jury, 

All whom his ignorance is wont t' assail, 

For yenturing beyond his narrow pale.' 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



171 



dwell upon the days I have passed in New-London. Deshon, 
Wheat, Saltonstall, Packwood, Law, Huntington, Champlin. Hub- 
bard, Sec. &(•.., very pleasant have ye been unto me. May the bless- 
ing of God descend upon your children's children, to the latest gen- 
eration. 

One capital difficulty, which has encompassed me in my pro- 
gress through this younger world, has been the extreme reluctance 
of inquirers to receive their answers in scripture language. Stand- 
ing alone, I have sought to wrap myself or rather to intrench my- 
self in the sacred testimony of my God ; and for this 1 have been 
accused of prevarication, equivocation, and what not ? merely be- 
cause I have not generally chosen to garb my sentiments in my own 
words. For example : The interrogator commences with a great 
many compliments, and then follows: 'Do you believe all men will 
finally be saved ?' I believe, it is good and acceptable in the sight of 
God our Saviour, who will have all men to be saved, and to come un- 
to the knowledge of the truth. ' But do you yourself believe* that all 
mankind will finally be saved ?' God hath included all in unbelief 
that he may have mercy upon all. ' But will all be finally saved ?' 
God hath spoken of the restitution of all things, by the mouth of all 
his holy prophets, since the world began. 'But still you do not an- 
swer my question.' Why, sir, for any thing 1 know, the authors, I 
hiwe cited, mean, by their words, precisely the same as I do, I 
adopt their language, because I conceive it expresses my own ideas 
better than any set of phrases I could press into my service. This 
mode, however, has rarely given satisfaction. Persons dare not, in 
an unqualified manner, deny the validity of scripture testimony ; 
they can only assert, it does not mean as it speaks, and they ear- 
nestly repeat the question : 'Do you believe,' &c. &c. While my 
responses are drawn from the sacred streams, flowing in the book 
of God, from Genesis to Revelations, still they importunately, some- 
times clamorously demand : 'But do you take those scriptures, as 
they are spoken ?' To which 1 can only reply : I have no reason 
to believe that, by saying one thing, and meaning another, men, so 
upright, have formed a plan to deceive me. An attempt has then 
been made to prove the texts in question did not, could not, mean 
as they spake. To which I have answered : Multitudes are on 
your side ; many have labored to prove God a liar ; but 1 have nev- 
er yet heard any argument, sufficiently potent, to convince me that 
He is so. 

On the ninth of April, in this year, I received from the church 
and congregation* in Portsmouth, New-Hampshire, worshipping 
in the separate meeting-house, a solemn, and affectionate call, to 

* This society afterwards settled Rev. Joseph Walton, who was or- 
dained over them Sept. 22, 1789$ and died in 1822, aged 80. On the re- 
moval of Rev. Hosea Ballou to Portsmouth, in 1809, Mr. Walton en- 
tered into a controversy with him, in connexion with Rev. Joseph 
Euckminster, two editions of which have been published. T. W. 



172 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



take upon me the pastoral charge of that people ; but I was not 
then convinced I ought to accept an establishment in any place. I 
passed the spring and the early part of the summer of 1774, in 
Pennsylvania, the Jersies, and New- York, with persons, who had 
drank into the same spirit with myself; with my revered friend, 
and father, with the Mounts and Pangburns of those happy days. 
Blessed be God, I have indeed enjoyed richly the consolations of 
friendship. In Philadelphia I was present at the heart-rending tri- 
al of some malefactors, which resulted in their receiving sentence 
of death: and I could not forbear exclaiming: Oh, Adam, what 
hast thou done ? My bosom swells to rapture, upon the reflec- 
tion, that I had frequent opportunities of visiting those criminals, 
and of preaching to them peace, through the fountain opened in the 
side of the second Adam. The poor creatures seemed much affect- 
ed. The proclamation of the tender mercies of the Redeemer was 
more effectual, than all the terrors of Mount Sinai. Departing from 
New- York, about the 20th of July, I passed, by short stages, through 
Connecticut and Rhode-Island, visiting my friends in various di- 
rections, and deriving inexpressible satisfaction from beholding 
their order, their zeal, and the magnitude of their faith. On the 
16th of August, the governor of Rhode-Island sent me a passage 
of scripture, soliciting me to take it for my subject) It may be found, 
Mark xiv. 10. The governor attended, and after I had closed, took 
my hand with much cordiality, and expressed himself well satisfied, 
and truly grateful. 

September 14th, 1774, 1 again reached Boston. My friends had 
long been expecting me, and I was received with demonstrations 
of heart- felt joy. Through the greatest part of this autumn, I con- 
tinued preaching in the hall of the factory, in the mansion of my 
venerable friend, and at Faneuil Hall. Once I attempted to 
preach in Mason's Hall ; but the throng, and consequent confusion 
were so great, that I was necessitated to desist even after I had 
worded my text; and finally, the congregations still augmenting, I 
yielded to the pressing solicitations of the proprietors of Mr. Cros- 
well's meeting-house, and repeatedly delivered my testimony 
there. On the 31st of October, a gentleman, by the name of Sar- 
gent, called upon me from Gloucester, urging me to accompany 
him to his place of residence. My engagements would not allow 
my immediate attendance, but I gave my word for an early com- 
pliance with his wishes. November 2d, Wednesday evening, I 
named as the subject of my public lecture, Luke 13th, from the 
24th to the 30th. After I had closed, a clergyman,* of a respecta- 
ble appearance, whom I had never before seen, ascended the 
stairs of the pulpit, and addressed the people to the following 
effect: 'My friends, you have heard a great deal said, (for what 
purpose I know not,) which is calculated to lead you astray from 



* This I am informed was Rev. J. Bacon, pastor of the Old South 
church. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



173 



the true meaning of the text. The passage refers to the general 
judgment, and to nothing else; and all, that has been said, can 
only originate wrong ideas of the scriptures; for how can it be, 
that the Jews should be intended by those, who were shut out? 
When did the Jews see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the> 
kingdom of God ? or how is it possible, that, if they should thus 
behold them, they could ever be happy ? It is not possible, that 
any, who die in a state of unbelief, should ever be happy to all eter- 
nity : and therefore, my brethren, I would exhort you to take care 
you are not led astray by the words of man's wisdom, and the 
cunning craftiness of men, whereby they lay in wait to deceive. 
O! It is very dangerous to give heed to such things.' Thus the 
gentleman proceeded, earnestly warning the people, and then 
paused. Again I arose, saying: Now this is well; I like this. 
How infinitely preferable to secret calumny ; no bush-fighting here. 
And, so much am I gratified with this ingenuous manner of dealing 
with me, that it is with extreme reluctance I find it necessary to 
dissent from him in opinion. Yet I must beg leave to observe : In 
the first place, the gentleman must assuredly be wrong, in suppos- 
ing the passage in question refers to the general and final judg- 
ment. Do but attend to the concluding verse: There are last, 
which shall be first, and first, which shall be last. Surely, the 
text would not be thus worded, if the /ad judgment were design- 
ed. The parable of the ten virgins illustrates this passage. Then 
turning to the 11th of Romans, I pointed out some particulars, 
which are generally passed unnoticed ; and when I read, '■for 
God hath included them all in UNBELIEF, that he might have 
mercy upon all,'' my opponent, rising, looked over my shoulder 
evidently to ascertain if I had given the genuine reading of the 
text; upon which a lawyer, in the assentbly, exclaimed : ( I advise 
you, sir, to retire, and read your bible.' I begged we might not be 
interrupted ; and I affirmed, that my antagonist was entitled to my 
cordial thanks, and that I devoutly wished his example might be 
generally influential. I then proceeded to show, that it was possi- 
ble an individual might pass out of time, ignorant of God, and yet 
be taught of God in that great day, when the books should be 
opened. I read the last part of the 22d Psalm, making a few 
remarks thereon ; and, after exhorting the audience to follow the 
example of the Bereans, I paused for a reply. The gentleman 
affirmed, I had given an erroneous view of the parable of the ten 
virgins ; that it pointed out the visible church ; and that the fool- 
ish virgins were the hypocrites: and he admonished the people to 
beware of false teachers, &c. &c. To which I replied, by pre- 
suming the gentleman did not recollect, that the foolish virgins 
seemed to be equally a part of the kingdom of heaven, with the wiso 
virgins, otherwise he would not so liberally consign them to the 
devil. He would have us beiieve, the kingdom of heaven is the 
visibie church ; such are the sentiments of His Holiness at Rome ; 
but, having abjured one Pope, I trusted we should not again bo 



174 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



brought into subjection to principles, the propriety of which our 
hearts refused to acknowledged. 

November 3d, I repaired to Gloucester, and was received by a few 
very warm-hearted Christians. The mansion-house — the heart, of 
the then head of the Sargent family, with his highly accomplished, 
and most exemplary lady, were open to receive me. I had travell- 
ed from Maryland to New Hampshire, without meeting a single 
individual, who appeared to have the smallest idea of what. I 
esteemed the truth, as it is in Jesus ; but to my great astonishment, 
there were a few persons, dwellers in that remote place, upon 
whom the light of the gospel had more than dawned. The writings 
of Mr. Relly were not only in their hands, but in their hearts. 
Four years previous to this period, an Englishman, a Mr. Gregory , 
had brought with him those obnoxious pages, and loaned them to 
this small circle of Gloucesterians, by whom they had been seized 
with avidity; the Father of their spirits rendered them luminous 
to their understandings; and it was in consequence of their admi- 
ration of Mr. Relly, that, observing in the papers of the day, an 
individual malignantly arraigned, as a preacher of Relly's Gospel, 
they delayed not to dispatch earnest solicitations for my presence 
among them. In Gloucester, therefore, I passed my time most 
agreeably, until November 12th. The clergyman of the principal 
meeting-house, being confined by illness, I was visited by the 
deacons, and elders of his church, and by them conducted to his 
house, after which I obtained permission to preach in his pulpit, 
which I several times did ; my subjects, 1 Cor. xi. 26 : The good 
Samaritan : Isaiah xxviii. 16, &c. Every day, and every evening 
was appropriated to the expounding of the scriptures, in the 
spacious and well-filled parlor of my new, and highly respectable 
friend ; and I had reason to believe, that God most graciously 
crowned my labors in this place, by giving to some brighter views, 
and inducing others to search the scriptures for themselves. 
Every morning commenced, and every day closed, with prayer j 
and, with glad hearts, we delighted to hymn the praises of a 
redeeming God. Taking a most affectionate leave of those very 
dear friends, on Saturday morning, accompanied by Mr. Sargent, I 
returned to Boston. Upon the evenings of Sunday, and Wednes- 
day, I again occupied the pulpit of Mr. Croswell, and upon the 
evening of Wednesday the audience were incommoded by a pro- 
fusion of water thrown over them, and an egg was aimed at me in 
the pulpit, which however happened to miss me. On Thursday 
a piece of slander was published in the paper of the day, over the 
signature of Mr. Croswell. He had before declared, he would 
print no more in the newspaper; so had I ; but although he had 
forfeited his word, I did not think proper to folio tv his example, 
and I therefore addressed the following letter to his private eai\ 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



175 



Sir: 

Some rime since, being under the disagreeable necessity of reply- 
ing to a dull repetition of your abusive slanders; and being per- 
suaded, right or wrong, you would have the last word, I assured 
the public I would write no more in newspapers ; so did you ; but 
your brilliant example shall never influence me to undertake the 
vindication of my veracity, by convincing the world I can lie. But 
as, in the close of your last performance, you informed me and the 
public, that, if I thought myself wronged, what had been asserted 
should be proved to my face, before as large an auditory as I pleas- 
ed ; I now, sir, take leave to say, I do think myself most cruelly 
wronged, and I should rejoice in an opportunity of vindicating my- 
self at the bar of the impartial public ; yes, I should rejoice to see 
a very large audience collected : but, as I suppose we shall not be 
able to procure any place but the meeting-house in School-Street, 
I shall expect, if you be an honest man, to meet you there. You 
commend a certain gentleman, who recently spoke to me in that 
house — so do I. He did not, like Solomon's fool, cast about fire- 
brands, arrows, and death, and say, Am I not in sport? he spake 
above-board, fair and openly. I should be glad you would come 
and do likewise — only 1 request you will let me know in writing, 
by the bearer, when you will do this piece of common justice, to 
the cruelly, and most unwarrantably treated, 

JOHN MURRAY, 

This letter enraged him, and he sent it back declaring he would 
have nothing to do with me. But on the following Sunday evening, 
when I repaired, as usual, to the meeting-house to preach, Mr. 
Croswell was upon the stairs of the pulpit, with a number of his 
violent adherents, for the purpose of barring me out. Making no 
resistance, I requested the gentleman might be heard W 7 ith patient 
attention ; and silence being obtained, Mr. Croswell entered the 
pulpit, and declaimed for a long time, with great bitterness ; accus- 
ing me of preaching damnable doctrines, though he had never 
heard me preach ; but so he had been informed, asserting, that I 
was one of Relly's followers, and Relly believed all mankind would 
be saved : and Relly was a blasphemer, and denied the atonement ; 
and 1 was a Deist, and it was dangerous to allow me to speak ; for 
I said once, in his hearing, that God loved the devil's children : and 
then, raising his voice he vociferated, 4 It is a lie, a lie, a lie ; it is a 
damnable lie.' Thus he went on alternately crying out against me, 
and against Mr. Relly, damning my preaching, and his writings, 
and exhorting the people to avoid me, &c. &c. When he had 
concluded, he quitted the pulpit, and was passing out of the house 
as speedily as possible. I requested him to stop ; but, observing he 
was rapidly departing, I urged the people to give me an opportuni- 
ty of having justice done me, by detaining my accusing adversary 
that I might defend myself in his presence ; and Mr. Croswell was 
accordingly led into a pew. I informed the audieace that I did in- 



176 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



deed labor under great difficulty. The person, to whom 1 was 
about to reply, was an old gentleman, and a clergyman, both of 
which characters were indubitably entitled to respect. Yet truth 
was, in my opinion, abundantly superior to every other considera- 
tion ; it was beyond all price ; a gem, with which its possessor 
fihoulcl never part. I should therefore take leave to say, Mr. Cros- 
well was very right, and very wrong. Right in condemning dam- 
nable doctrines ; wrong in charging me with preaching those doc- 
trines. Mr. Croswell, 1 said, reminded me of Nero, who, to be re- 
venged upon the Christians, caught the city of Rome on fire, and 
charged the Christians with that atrocious deed. 

Mr. Croswell bad dressed me in a bear's skin, and then set the 
dogs at me. He affirms, that I preach damnable doctrines ! Suf- 
fer rne to ask, What are the damnable doctrines? Peter says, 
There shall arise false teachers among you, as there were false 
prophets among the people, who shall privily bring in damnable 
doctrines, even denyimg the Lord, who bought them. I appeal to 
this audience. Did I ever deny the Lord, who bought you ? On 
the contrary, have I not borne constant testimony to this purchase ? 
Did you ever hear me say, It made no difference, whether a man 
lived a good or a bad life ; was a believer, or an unbeliever ? Surely, 
it is highly inconsistent to rank me with the Deist, who utterly dis- 
owns the Redeemer, when I am arraigned at this bar for believing 
there is no God out of Christ, and that He, who is God, our 
Saviour, is all, and in all. Mr. Relly,* is three thousand miles 

* As this is the last notice the reader will find of the Rev. James 
Helly, it is proper to say he died in the full, faith of the doctrine he had 
preached, somewhere we believe about 1783. Mr. Murray was sensi- 
bly affected with the intelligence of his death. 

' The sad account of the departure of my inestimable friend, Mr. Rel- 
ly, had reached me previous to the particulars relative to that melan- 
choly event, with which you have so condescendingly indulged me.. 
From the moment of my leaving England until the arrival of this heart* 
affecting intelligence, 1 experienced much innate satisfaction from the 
prospect of meeting once more, in the present state, my spiritual pa- 
rent, my guide, my father, my brother, my friend. I pleased myself 
with the expectation of communicating to him the discoveries I had 
made in this new world ; and I anticipated the ineffable delight we 
should derive from the glowing devotion of our hearts, while we talked 
together of these things. 

'But, alas ! all these high-raised expectations are now blasted, forev- 
er buried in his grave ; and I have only to look forward to the period 
when we shall assuredly meet again, and with the additional satisfac- 
tion of knowing we shall never more be separated. 

' 1 am obliged by the account you have transmitted me respecting the 
last stages of my lamented friend. I never expected any failure in his 
faith ; yet, although he had staggered at the promises, I have the happi- 
ness to assure you, this circumstance would have originated no doubts 
in my mind ; for, however great my opinion of, and affection for, so dis- 
tinguished a member of that body of which the Redeemer is the head. 



LIFE OF REY. JOHN MURRAY. 



177 



from this metropolis, Mr. Croswell has neither seen nor heard him. 
Blasphemy, of w hich Mr. Croswell accuses him, is no where to be 
found, in his writings. These writings, give me leave to say, will 
Jive, and be held in admiration, when ten thousand such charac- 
ters as Mr. Croswell's and mine, will be consigned to oblivion. 
Thus I went on. Mr. Croswell again advanced to the pulpit ; 
reiterated what he had before asserted, without regarding a sylla- 
ble which I had uttered, until at length he interrogated : ' Does 
God love all the people in the world as well as Peter and Paul ? ' 
Suffer me, sir, first to ask you one question, which, if you will 
answer, then I will reply to yours. Did God love Peter and Paul 
as well before they believed as afterwards? 'God loved Peter and 
Paul from the foundation of the world.' Again, and again, I 
repeated my question, but could not obtain a direct answer. The 
people from the galleries called out, 'Why do you not say yes, or 
no?' — but he refused thus to commit himself, and of course I 
dropped the inquiry. Again he returned to the charge. ' Does 
God love all the people in the world, as well as Peter and Paul ? ' 
Yes, sir, 1 believe He does, as well as He loved those Apostles 
before they believed. ' Do you believe God loves all the people in 
the world?' Yes, sir, I do. Then, again, he proceeded most 
violently, and, that the heresy might be confirmed, he once more 
questioned : ' Do you believe, that God loves the devil's children, 
as well as his own beloved ones?' No, indeed; I do not think 
God loves any of the devil's children. 'There, there, now he is 

my faith was never founded on him. I should not have profited un- 
der his ministry if 1 had thus rested my hope upon any mere man. 
But, although through the favor of Heaven 1 am separated from that 
adulterous generation which is ever asking after a sign, it nevertheless 
gives me pleasure, inexpressible pleasure, to hear of any of the redeem- 
ed finishing their course with joy, and triumphantly laying hold of eter- 
nal life. 

' Had James Relly departed under a cloud, it would, no doubt, have 
had a tendency to have made blind eyes blinder, and hard hearts hard- 
er ; but, blessed be God, you have assured me that his views of his Re- 
deemer and his finished righteousness, still brightened upon him, until, 
escaping from the body, he, no doubt, attained the regions of intermi- 
nable day. 

' Yes, indeed, Mr. Relly was, during his life, and his memory will 
continue while I have life, right precious to my soul. My reasons for 
attachment, for homage, were similar to those which actuated Timothy 
in his devotion to the apostle Paul ; and my loss is indeed irreparable. 
You observe he died greatly lamented, no doubt; it was impossible to 
know Mr. Relly and not regret his departure out. of time ; and the ma- 
ny who experienced a religious joy at this event knew no more of my 
honored friend than their brethren of old did of our blessed Master. 
Yes, yes, he was truly a Christian, and it could not happen but that he 
should endure his sufferings with patience for the joy that was set be- 
fore him.' 

T. W. 

16 



178 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



hiding again.' Suffer me, sir, to ask, What is it constitutes the 
character of the wicked man ? ' That is nothing to the purpose.' 

Again 1 ask, what is it constitutes the character of the wicked 
man ? Here several individuals tremulously asked: 'Why do you 
not answer the question ? we are all concerned in it, we are seek- 
ing information.' 'Suppose I cannot; let some one else answer, 
and, if 1 iike it, J will agree to it.' No answer was given, and Mr. 
Crosweli resumed his declamation, affirming, I had said, God 
joved the devil's children. 1 denied the charge, and was again 
accused of hiding, when I besought the attention of the people, 
while I explained myself. What are we to understand by a 
father, and a child, but the begetter and begotten r Can you, Mr, 
Crosweli, or can any one present, presume to say, that the bodies, 
or the souls of mankind, were begotten by the devil? Is not God 
the Father of the spirits of all flesh ? Is not God the Maker of our 
frames? and doth not the Apostle say, we are all His offspring? 
If it be confessed, we all died in Adam, we were of course in 
Adam ; and if we were in Adam, we were what Adam was. But 
the Evangelist Luke affirms, that Adam was the son of God. We 
will next inquire, Who are the children of the devil, and who are 
the children of God? 1 humbly conceive, Christ Jesus himself 
has put the matter beyond dispute, in the ever memorable parable 
of the tares of the field, and our obligation to the Redeemer, for 
explaining it so clearly to his disciples, is indeed immeasurable. I 
then repeated the parable, and the explanation: and proved from 
thence, that the abominations of the earth were children of 
the devil, because produced by him ; that the iniquities of the 
people were the tares, sowed by the adversary ; that our nature 
was the good seed, which Jesus sowed. A holy God could not love 
sin, and, of course, could love no child of the devil: but men, 
being his offspring, He once loved them as his own, and having 
loved His own, He loved them unto the end ; that He had proved 
this to all men, in the gift of his Son ; God so loved the world, that 
He gave thtm his Son. Mr. Crosweli interrupted ; 'Nine tenths of 
all you have said is nothing at all to the purpose:' and again, in 
terms the most violent, he renewed his accusation, that I was all 
the time hiding. A voice from the gallery exclaimed : ' If he be 
hiding, why do you not hunt him out of the bush?' 

Mr. Crosweli at length tauntingly said : ' Come, come, leave off 
hiding, and tell the people, in plain English, that God loves them 
all.' To which I answered : 1 will, sir, in as plain English as I 
can command ; — and then, addressing the congregation, 1 thus de- 
livered the genuine sentiments of my soul: 1 am commissioned to 
eay, to every individual before me, that God loves you, and that you 
are not to accept this declaration upon my bare word ; you have 
the word of a God, who cannot lie; who proclaims Himself loving 
unto every man ; w ho has given you proof positive of Hi* love. 
His love has been greatly manifested in your birth ; in rearing you 
from infancy ; in guarding you through the devious paths of child- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



hood, and youth ; and preserving you from ten thousand dangers, 
to which you have been exposed. His gracious providence, in so 
plentifully providing for you, is a proof of His love. Your civil 
and religious liberties are blessed proofs of the love of your God. 
These particulars announce the love of Deity to every individual, 
as a Creator, and Preserver. Yet these manifestations may be 
considered as merely temporal : but, blessed be the holy name of 
Jehovah ! I am authorized to add, and in plain English too, that 
God loves the soul, which emanates from Himself, and that He 
has proved this love by the gift of His Son. God so loved the ivorld, 
that He gave them His Son. To its a child is bor.i, to us a Son is giv- 
en. God has evinced His love, by giving us, in this Son, Reconcil- 
iation, Regeneration, a new Head, a new Heart, a right Spirit. 
Here your Creator so loved you, as to give you Wisdom, Righteous- 
ness, Sanctification, and Redemption. In Christ Jesus, God has so 
loved you, as to bless you with ail spiritual blessings. Every indi- 
vidual should believe this, since it is nothing more than an accom- 
plishment of the promise, of the oath of Jehovah, which he swear 
unto Abraham, saying : And in thy Seed shall all the nations, all the 
families of the earth, be blessed. Such are the glad tidings, which 
the God, who loved you before the foundation of the world, hath 
commanded us to proclaim to every one of you ; such are the glad 
tidings, which you ought to believe. If your heart tell you, It is 
not so, b3lieve it not, it is an unbelieving heart ; he that trusteth 
such a heart, is a fool. If the devil tell you, It is not so, believe 
him not, he was a liar from the beginning. If your ministers tell 
you, You ought not to believe this good report, trust them not ; 
they take part with the devil, and your unbelieving hearts. The 
devil would persuade you, not to believe the glorious truths, be- 
cause, if you were delivered from his usurpation, you would hence- 
forward serve your Creator without fear. The arch fiend is solicitous 
to retain you in bondage ; his utmost efforts are in requisition to pre- 
vent you from believing, that God has so loved you, as to purchase 
you with the price of blood, of the precious blood of the Lamb of 
God ; he would prevent you from believing that you are bought with 
such a price, lest, thus believing, you should render yourselves living 
sacrifices, holy, and acceptable to God. But, let God be true, and 
every man a liar. Ye are not your own, ye are bought with a 
price, and the love of Christ constraineth us, because we thus 
judge, if One died for all, then were all dead; and that He died for 
all, that they, who live, should not henceforth live unto themselves, but 
unto Him, who died for them, and rose again. 

All the time I was speaking, Mr. Croswell was kicking my legs, 
or pulling the skirts of my garment, ever and anon vociferating : 
'Hive done, have done; you have said enough; quite enough, 1 
&c. &c. Sometimes he stood up close to my side, shouldering me 
as hard as he was able. The congregation noticed his behavior, 
and it did not give them pleasure. For myself, I had much cause 
for gratitude to my divine Master: 1st, that he was pleased to give 



180 



LIFE OF RET. JOHN MURRAY. 



me words ; and 2dly, that he did not suffer me to lose my self- 
command. No, not for an instant. Biessed be the name of the 
Lord. 

My next evening lecture was uninterrupted ; but, on the succeed- 
ing Sunday evening, the throng was so prodigious, that it was with 
much difficulty I reached the pulpit; and when entered, I was 
nearly suffocated by the strong effluvia, arising from the asafcetida, 
with which the tools of the adversary had wet the pulpit and the pul- 
pit cloth, plentifully sprinkling the whole house with the same nox- 
ious drug. For some moments I was so much overpowered, as to in- 
duce an apprehension, that it would be impossible I should proceed ; 
but the God of my life was abundantly sufficient for me. The demons 
of confusion were, however, not quite satisfied ; many stones were 
violently thrown into the windows; yet no one received any other 
injury than the alarm which was created. At length, a large rug- 
ged stone, weighing about a pound and a half, was forcibly thrown 
in at the window behind my back ; it missed me. Had it sped, as 
it was aimed, it must have killed me. Lifting it up, and waving it 
in the view of the people I observed : This argument is solid, and 
weighty, but it is neither rational, nor convincing. Exclamations 
from various part of the house, were echoed, and re-echoed : 4 Pray, 
sir, leave the pulpit, your life is at hazard. Be it so, I returned, the 
debt of nature must be paid, and I am as ready, and as ivilling, to 
discharge it now, as I shall be fifty years hence. Yet, for your 
consolation, suffer me to say, 1 am immortal, while He who called 
me into existence has any business for me to perform ; and when 
he has executed those purposes, for which He designed me, He 
will graciously sign my passport to realms of blessedness. With 
your good leave, then, I pursue my subject, and while I have a — 
Thus saith the Lord— for every point of doctrine which I ad- 
vance, not all the stones in Boston, exeept they stop my breath, 
shall shut my month, or arrest my testimony. The congregation 
was, as I have said, astonishingly large; but order and silence were 
gradually restored, and I had uncommon freedom in the illustra- 
tion and defence of those sacred truths, which will be ultimately 
triumphant. Two or three succeeding lecture evenings were un- 
molested, when the business of stoning me in the pulpit was again 
resumed : my friends were in terror, and, after I had closed, form- 
ing a strong phalanx around me, they attended me home. Many 
religious people were violent in their opposition ; they insisted that 
I merited the severest punishment ; that the old discipline for here- 
tics ought to be put in force, and I was thus furnished with abun- 
dant reason to bless God for the religious liberty of the country of 
my adoption, else racks and tortures would have been put in opera- 
tion against me, nor would these holy men, moved by the spirit, 
have stopped short of my destruction. Yet was the charge of here- 
sy never proved against trie. I was never silenced either by reason 
or scripture — I had called upon men every where, clergymen, or 
laymen, to step forward, and convict me of error ; promising, imme* 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



181 



\1iately upon conviction, to relinquish the obnoxious tenet, whatev- 
er it might chance to be, and to adopt that better way, which would, 
in such an event, become luminous before me. Truth, and grati- 
tude originates the confession, that in all circumstances, I have hith- 
erto had reason to bless the God of my life, who hath promised He 
will be with me to the end of the world, and that all things shall 
work together for good. Amen, and amen. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Summary Record of Events, from January, 1775, to October, 1809, 

Amid the haunts of memory let me stray, 
As duty, love, and friendship, point the way ; 
With hand of diligence, and humid eye. 
The faithful "record tearfully supply. 

Would the beloved preacher had continued his narrative. The 
Editor fondly calculating upon assistance which she believed her- 
self authorized to expect, pledged herself to continue the sketch, 
even to the closing scene. But, alas ! disappointed in her cherish- 
ed hopes, she stands alone. Her health is broken, her spirits are 
depressed, and she is advanced in life ; yea, doubtless, she is inad- 
equate to the performance of her promise — But she remembers that 
this volume is addressed only to the friends of the dear departed, 
and she mournfully proceeds to its completion. 

Upon December 14, 1774, Mr. Murray again visited Gloucester ; 
the numerous family of the Sargents then seated in that place em- 
braced, in almost all its branches, the truth as it is in Jesus, and their 
attachment to him, whom they believed an ambassador of the Re- 
deemer, was proportioned to their zeal. Many respectable names 
were added, and a little congregation was collected, who seemed 
to have among them but one heart, and one soul. Like the primi- 
tive Christians, they assembled daily, and they continued from 
bouse to house worshipping the only true God their Saviour. On 
recurrence to the journal of the preacher we find a memorandum, 
written upon his second visit to Gloucester, which is thus worded : 
1 Here my God grants me rest from my toils ; here I have a taste of 
heaven. The new song is sung here, and worthy is the Lamb 
constantly dwells upon their tongues.' Mr. Chandler's meeting- 
house was not closed against the promulgator of glad tidings, until 
some time in January, 1775, upon the 20th of which month he 
made a second journey to Newburyport and Portsmouth. Those 
who had adhered to him in those towns, having ascertained that 



182 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



he absolutely believed the final restitution of all things, united with 
the many in the most unqualified censure. But the friends he had 
lost, particularly in Portsmouth, were replaced by many others, 
among whom we find the names of Judge, and Sheriff* Parker, At- 
kinson, Went worth, Austin, Warner, Sheafe, Langdon, Sewall, 
Brack ett, Whipple, Thompson, Turner, Gardner, Massey, Jackson, 
&e &c. The heaven-instructed preacher continued many years 
an occasional visiter in Portsmouth, where his labors were greatly 
blessed; and when other pulpits were closet! against him in that 
metropolis, the doors of the Episcopal Church were open for his 
reception. But after he had repeatedly lectured in that church, a 
few persons appeared in opposition, and we have this moment un- 
der our eye, an original writing, addressed to the promulgator upon 
this occasion. We transcribe a verbatim copy : ' Whereas it is rep- 
resent! that some objections have been made by one or more per- 
sons, belonging to the Church called Queen's Chapel, against the 
doors (hereof being opened for the admission of Mr. John Murray 
to preach the Gospel ; Wherefore, we the subscribers, proprietors, 
and parishioners of the Church aforesaid, having taken the same in- 
to consideration — Do (in order to remove any difficul ties that might 
arise in that gentleman's breast in consequence of such objections) 
hereby fully declare our free will and consent, that the said Church 
be open at all times, whenever it may be convenient for him to 
perform divine service in town, more especially during his present 
stay ; and, instead of deeming it an indulgence granted him, we 
shall, on the contrary acknowledge it a favor conferred on us, in 
his acceptance of this invitation. Portsmouth, May 24, 1781.' — 
Signed by twenty-four of the leading members of the Church in 
Porrsmomh. Our preacher was also made the instrument, of irra- 
diating the mind of an exemplary philanthropist, Mr. Noah Parker, 
now in regions of blessedness, who was so deeply penetrated, as to 
present himself a servant of the living God, a voluntary preacher 
of the Gospel. A convenient house was raised for his use, by the 
brethren in Portsmouth, and he continued, until his departure out 
of time, a zealous and able minister of the Reconciliation. 

Attached to the Gloucesterians, Mr. Murray once more believed 
he had found a permanent residence; yet, although he consented 
to consider that place as his li-ome ; he did not relinquish the per- 
suasion that his commission obliged him to go forth a preacher of 
the Gospel, wherever and whenever the providence of God might 
seem to direct him. The inveteracy of his enemies in the town of 
Gloucester, was in full proportion to the attachment of his friends, 
and every means of annoyance was in requisition. The spirit of 
liberty mounted very high in Gloucester, and for the purpose of 
influencing the ignorant, the teacher was proclaimed a Papist, 
sent out by Lord North, to aid the purpose of an obnoxious minis- 
try ; anathemas, and sometimes stones, followed his steps as he 
passed the streets; a town-meeting was called, the aim of which 
(lest the friends of the promulgator should take the alarm) was 



LIFE OF REV, JOHN MURRAY. 



183 



tnost illegally shrouded in silence, and a vote was thus surrepti- 
tiously obtained, that he should forthwith depart from the borders of 
Gloucester; of this vote he was advertised by an officer — let us not 
say of justice. Still, however, he continued witnessing both to 
small and great, what Moses and the prophets had testified, con- 
cerning Jesus of Nazareth, that he died for our sins, and rose again 
for our justification. The most unwarrantable means were em- 
ploved ; old slanders were resuscitated, and new accusations brought 
foi 'ward 5 tales which had been repeatedly confuted, were new 
garbed, and sent abroad, swelling the bosom of integrity with unut- 
terable anguish. Among countless other calumnies which were 
afloat, a story was embellished, and published, originally propaga- 
ted by one Maxwell, wherein the preacher, the lover of the Re- 
deemer, is represented as treating the Eucharist in a ludicrous 
manner! although the gentleman — Mr. afterwards General Greene, 
at whose house, and in whose presence, the irreverent profanation 

was said to have taken place — had written to Doctor S and 

others, completely exonerating the accused. Mr. Murray's senti- 
ments upon the sacred and consolatory ordinance of the Lord's 
Supper, are explained and expatiated upon, in his Letters and 
Sketches of Sermons, to which the interested reader is referred. It 
cannot be denied, that characters generally respectable combined 
to stimulate the mob to the most desperate measures ; but every un- 
warrantable project was frustrated. The doors of the meeting- 
house being now closed, the parlors of respectable friends became 
the places of assembling, until at length a spacious room was con- 
secrated for that purpose. Letters of excommunication were now 
addressed, by the established Minister, to seventeen of the most re- 
spectable Church members, and this, for their attachment to the 
Gospel of God our Saviour. While others, availing themselves of 
a Provincial Law, endeavored to expel the Ambassador of their 
God, as a Vagrant. To meet and obviate which difficulty, the 
kind friend under whose especial patronage he then was, presented 
him with a deed of gift which constituted him a freeholder in 
Gloucester. The months of March and April, in this year, were, 
by the preacher, devoted to visiting his friendj in Boston, and va- 
rious parts of Rhode Island, and toward the close of April he re- 
turned to his highly favored home, rejoicing that the zeal and at- 
tachment of the Gloucesterians were nothing diminished, and their 
meetings for scriptural investigations were joyfully resumed. In 
the month of May, 1775, the leading officers of the Rhode Island 
Brigade, assembled in the neighborhood of Boston, dispatched a 
respectable messenger, with a letter, soliciting the attendance of the 
promulgator, as chaplain* to their detachment of the Revolutionary 
Army. We transcribe a verbatim copy of this letter. 

* It is not difficult to see the cause of Mr. Murray's appointment to 
this office. In his journeys through Rhode Island he had become inti- 
mately acquainted with several of the officers, particularly Mr. after- 



184 



life or rev. john Murray. 



' Dear Sir : 

'Amidst that concurrence of events which the great Creator hi 
infinite wisdom directs, for the accomplishment of his own pur- 
poses, a British armament hath set hostile foot upon American 
ground. What the design of the Almighty may be, we cannot at 
present absolutely determine. One thing we know, our cause is 
just, and also that the Parent of the universe can do no wrong. 
An army hath been raised in this Colony, which is now stationed 
upon Jamaica Plains in Roxbury, and that this army may do honor 
to themselves, and the cause in which they are embarked, it is re- 
quisite propriety of manners, regularity of conduct, and a due reli- 
ance upon the Almighty controller of events, should be cultivated 
and enforced. The most probable human means we can devise to 
effect an object so ardently to be desired, consist in a decent, sin- 
cere, and devout attendance, at opportune seasons, upon divine 
worship. We have, therefore, selected you, as a Chaplain to our 
Brigade, well convinced that your extensive benevolence and 
abilities will justify our choice. We cannot, without doing vio- 
lence to the opinion we have formed of your character, doubt of 
your ready compliance with our united request. The support you 
will receive shall exactly correspond with your feelings, and your 
wishes. We are, dear sir, &c. &c. &c. 

' Signed in behalf of the Brigade, 

<J. N. VARNUM. 

< May 24, 1775.' 

A persuasion that he could be of more use in the army than 
elsewhere, would not allow the preacher to balance, and, accord- 
ingly, resigning the calm recess of friendship, he presented himself 
in the American camp, and 'armed with the sword of Jesse's 
youthful son,' he was indeed most ardently engaged. The scene, 
however, was not calculated to give pleasure to a philanthropist. 
In a memorandum of this date, he thus expresses himself : ' My 
troubles have recommenced ; I am now indeed in the world, and 
shall doubtless encounter tribulation ; I am associated with an un- 
governable set of people. It is true, the officers are gentlemen, 
and call into action every effort to strengthen my hands; but the 
soldiers — alas! the fact is, I am not in my own company.' 

Upon the 3d of July, the chaplain accompanied a detachment 

wards General Greene, who through the whole war held so high a rank 
in the affection and confidence of the commander-in-chief, and who was 
regarded as second only to him in patriotism, stability, prudence and 
military skill. His previous acquaintance with the first officers of the 
Rhode Island Brigade, was the unquestionable cause of his appoint- 
ment. Evans, in his Sketch of the Christian Sects, and Southey, in his 
Life of Wesley, have both erred, in stating that Mr. Murray was chap- 
lain to General Washington. He was chaplain only to the Rhode Is- 
land Brigade. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



185 



of the brigade, to compliment General Washington upon his arri- 
val to take the supreme command of the army at Cambridge ; and 
he was received by the immortal chief with that urbanity which he 
so well knew to practise. The subject of the first sermon, preach- 
ed on sabbath morning at the camp, Jamaica Plains, was Psalm 
xliv. 1, 2, *3, and upon the evening of the same day, the last verse 
of the same Psalm. The preacher was engaged occasionally at 
Jamaica Plains, and on Prospect Hill. Every morning at 7 o'clock 
he met the several regiments upon the parade; gradually the hab- 
its of swearing and the rough manners of the soldiery, yielded to 
the christianized eloquence of their chaplain, and his success in the 
army was indeed most wonderful. His benevolence and benignity 
while there, is storied by many a tongue; we indulge ourselves by 
selecting an instance, which did not reach our ears until since his 
decease. A detachment of the army was ordered to march ; a riv- 
er was to be forded : a poor soldier in years, and struggling with 
sickness, was tottering under his burden: the preacher instantly 
accoutred himself .with the knapsack, arms, and cartouch-box, and 
thus arrayed, proceeded on, while the suffererer disencumbered, 
passed lightly over. The writer of this sketch could furnish a se- 
ries of similar anecdotes ; often, when his finances have been at the 
lowest ebb, and the prodigious expense of living has produced dis- 
tressing embarrassments, she has seen him extend to the necessi- 
tous, an extricating hand ; and he not only indulged and cherished, 
but invariably stimulated every charitable purpose of her soul. 

General Washington honored the preacher with marked and uni- 
form attention ; the chaplains of the army united in petitioning the 
chief for the removal of the promulgator of glad tidings ; the an- 
swer was handed them, in the general orders of the ensuing day, 
which appointed Mr. John Murray chaplain of the three Rhode 
Island regiments, with a command from his Excellency George 
Washington, that he should be respected accordingly. Mr. Mur- 
ray's commission was made out, and delivered to him ; when, en- 
closing it in a respectfully polite letter of thanks, he returned it to 
the noble minded chief, earnestly requesting permission to contin- 
ue in the army, as a volunteer. General Washington, after perus- 
ing, folded the paper, and observed, 'Mr. Murray is a young man 
now; he will live to be old, and repentance will be the companion 
of hi* age.' The preacher lived to see this prediction fulfilled. 
Had he embraced the rich opportunity then presented, he might 
have continued in the family of General Greene, whose friendship 
was unbroken, and where his abode was hailed as a distinguishing 
favor, his daily ratio would have augmented for his emolument, his 
salary would have accumulated, he would have retired upon half 
pay, or commutation, and during the years of languor and decrepi- 
tude, he might have commanded his own carriage and servants ; 
but the reader must have seen that the preacher was accustomed to 
withdraw from the approaches of affluence. 

Mr. Murray continued in the army so long as his health would 



186 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



permit ; but being violently seized by an indisposition, which ter- 
minated in a bilious fever that precipitated him to the gates of the 
grave, he was, by the physician of the brigade, conducted to Glou- 
cester; and no sooner was his health re-established, than his strong- 
est feelings were powerfully excited by the sufferings of the sons 
and daughters of want in that town. War of any description is 
particularly oppressive to the inhabitants seated upon the margin of 
the ocean: their subsistence is principally derived from the deep. 
The rich sources of commerce, thrown open by the genial hand of 
peace, became to the hardy and enterprising Gloucesterian, legiti- 
mate objects of pursuit ; and his uniform and industrious efforts 
are crowned by competency. But whatever obstructs his adven- 
turous plans, inevitably involves him in distress ; and the period to 
which we advert, was, perhaps, the most gloomy of any during the 
revolutionary war. It had continued long enough to try without 
familiarizing or indurating the feelings, aud hope had almost be- 
come the victim of despair. The humane preacher surveyed those 
multiplied children of penury — and he surveyed them with a phi- 
lanthropic eye; nor was this all— commencing a journey m the 
deptii of a severe winter, he addressed the general officers in the 
American army, beginning with their revered chief, and extending 
his application to many other gentlemen, whose confidence and 
whose friendship he enjoyed. He addressed to those distinguished 
individuals the voice of supplication, and so successful was his em- 
bassy, that he returned to Gloucester with a large sum of money, 
which he converted into rice, meal, and molasses, rendering a scru- 
pulous account to the selectmen, and praying them to recommend 
such persons as were proper objects of this providential bounty. 
The whole was punctually distributed, and many sufferers most 
essentially relieved. Yet on the 27th day of February, in the suc- 
ceeding year, 1777, we find this same feeling solicitor summoned 
from the house of a friend, Mr. Winthrop Sargent, where he was 
suffering from indisposition, and arraigned at the bar of the then 
committee of safety for the town of Gloucester. Some gentlemen 
counselled him to disregard the summons, especially as the whole 
committee were not assembled, and those who were collected were 
decidedly his inveterate enemies, — but he answered, that possessing 
a consciousness of innocence, he could not fear the face of man. 

The following account of the extraordinary proceedings which 
ensued, is from the minutes of a gentleman, who was an ear 
witness of the scene. The chairman of the committee opened the 
business. 4 We have sent for you, to know who you are, and 
from whence you came?' 'Your question is rather difficult, sir, 
I hardly know how to answer you ; do you mean where did I 
come from last?' 'I say where did you come from?' 'I have 
been in various places in this country, sir. ' I say where did you 
come from when you came into this country ? ' ' From England.' 
From what part of England ? ' 'London.' ' What business had 
you to come to this country ? ' 1 Business, sir ! I felt disposed to. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



187 



tome, and came — ' 'What business have you in this town?' 
4 The same as I have in every town where 1 happen to sojourn. 7 
Here one of* the committee, arose, and requesting leave to speak, 
which was granted, said : '1 conceive we have sent for this man 
to know from whence he came, who he is, and what business he 
has here ; this is a time of difficulty, we are at variance with 
England, he calls himself an Englishman, we do not know what 
he is. He associates with a great many, whom we look upon as 
enemies to this country, and they go to hear him converse — I 
think — I cannot call it preaching.'' Here Mr. Murray would have 
spoken, but he was imperiously, not to say impudently, command- 
ed to be silent, and his accuser proceeded, until at length the 
chairman again resumed: 'Where did you come from ? We 
want to know where you were born, and brought up ?' Mr. Mur- 
ray answered, 4 Gentlemen, it is not my wish to give you unneces- 
sary trouble. I was born in England ; shortly alter 1 had attained 
my eleventh year, I accompanied my father to Ireland, where I 
continued many years under his care; when 1 was between 10 
and 20, 1 returned to England, where 1 abode, living generally in 
London, until I quitted it lor this country. Since I came into this 
country, my residence has been in Maryland, Pennsylvania, the 
Jerseys, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, 
and New Hampshire.' ' What did you come into this country 
for ? ' ' In pursuit of retirement, but concurrent circumstances 
rendered me a preacher.' 'Have you any credentials?' 'Yes 
sir.' ' Show them.' ' I have none present, there are many in this 
town who have heard me, and received my testimony ; they are 
my credentials.' 'Ay, that is nothing — }ou see he has no authori- 
ty. How could you think of preaching without authority?* 
4 When I came into this country there was no war, I believed it to 
be a land of civil, and religious liberty — every charter, and every 
law made among yourselves, breathed a spirit of toleration, 1 felt 
assured 1 should he allowed liberty of conscience ; my intentions 
were upright ; a conviction that God had ordained me to proclaim 
the gospel, has been powerfully impressed upon my mind, and I 
am still convinced, that I ought to preach the Gospel.' ' How 
long do you intend to stay in this town?' 'I do not precisely 
know ; but certainly until the weather and roads shall be good.' 
* The weather will do, and it is pretty good travelling now.' (At 
this time the winter having been extremely severe, the roads were 
nearly impassable.) ' I do not believe J shall quit Gloucester until 
April ; about that time I expect to commence a journey to Phila- 
delphia.' ' The town is very uneasy at your continuance here, 
and we are a committee of safety. We are to take up all strangers, 
and send them out of town.' ' Sir, 1 have already been warned 
out of town, and if you be apprehensive of my becoming a charge, 
I can procure bonds.' One of the committee addressed the chair 
fo r liberty to speak, which having obtained, he said : * Your stay in 
this town, is cause of uneasiness to many ; you hurt the morals of 



188 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



the people, and a great many who hear you are enemies to the 
country. Mr. Murray responded — 'Those who hear me, and 
believe what I deliver, can never be injured in their morals.' ' I 
do not believe you.' ' You have not heard all 1 have said in de- 
fence of my persuasion.' 'I have heard enough ; I neither believe, 
nor like it. y ' Well, sir, there is no act of assembly to compel you 
to hear ; but you should remember your neighbor is entitled to 
equal liberty with yourself.' 1 You deliver very erroneous princi- 
ples.' ' My principles are all to be found in the sacred records of 
divine truth.' 'Ay, so you say.' ( I was not apprized that I was 
cited before a spiritual court.' Mr. Murray then addressed the 
chair — ' Sir, this gentleman asserts that 1 associate with a great 
many enemies of this country. I demand that they be pointed 
out. If I associate with an individual of this description, it is 
unknown to me.' A gentleman at the chairman's elbow observ- 
ed : 'Mr. chairman, 1 think we have no business to answer this 
man a single question : we did not send for him to answer his 
questions, but to ask questions of him.' 

The chairman then repeated that the town was very uneasy, and 
advised Mr. Murray to depart, to prevent further trouble : to which 
he answered, ' Sir, I have been nearly seven years in this country ; 
perhaps no one has a more extensive acquaintance : I have many 
friends and many enemies. I feel that I am a friend to all man- 
kind, and I am happy that no circumstance of my life can prove 
the contrary. I was invited to this town, and I have been cordially 
received ; but it seems I am suspected, because I associate with 
many who are enemies to this country. 1 associate with Captain 
Winthrop Sargent,* — pray is he an enemy ? During my residence 
in this place I have never heard a syllable uttered which this com- 
mittee ought to consider as reprehensible. I am not acquainted 
with a single individual who appears to me an enemy to this coun- 
try ; two or three worthy characters I know, who do not perfectly 
approve every measure which has been adopted. I have recently 
endeavored to recollect how many gentlemen, the circle of my 
connexions from Maryland to New Hampshire contained, who 
were suspected of being unfriendly to the present order of things, 
and I could number but five persons, not an individual of whom 
has ever been proved inimical to American prosperity. For my- 
self, I rejoice in the reflection, that I am a staunch friend to liberty, 
genuine liberty. It is well known that I have labored to promote 
the cause of this country, and I rejoice that I have not labored in 
vain. I arn so well known, and I have the happiness to be so well 
respected, that his Excellency ^General Washington appointed me 

* Winthrop Sargent. I have supplied the full name. This gentle- 
man was one of the principal citizens of the place, and Mr. Murray re- 
sided at his house. He was a firm and decided patriot, and so the citi- 
zens considered him, for they elected him in 1779 to the convention 
that framed the constitution. T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



189 



to officiate as chaplain to several regiments. I should have imag- 
ined this would have been sufficient credentials here. 1 have 
injured no person in this town. 1 am invited to meet my friends, 
in the house of a friend, where they desire me to read the Bible, to 
comment thereon, and to unite with them in solemn prayer to Al- 
mighty God, for the continuance of his mercies to us, as a people, 
and not unto us only, but to a once lost, and now redeemed world.' 
A member of the committee observed, that they could not be an- 
swerable for any thing that might be done by a mob, and, it was 
not in their power to prevent it, if he did not. without delay, leave 
the town. Mr. Murray laying his spread hand upon his breast, an- 
swered: 'Sir, I feel such a consciousness of innocence here, that 
I know not what it is to fear. It is with perfect composure that I 
commit myself, to God, and the laws of this Commonwealth. If I 
have broken any law, let me be punished by law ; but I bless God 
I am not a lawless person. Sir, I am a stranger to fear, 1 have 
committed no action worthy of punishment. Sir, I know not what 
it is to fear. No man can have any power over me, except it be 
given to him from above ; no injury can be done me, but by the 
permission of my God. But I am not afraid ; the worst this mob 
can do, is to deprive me of a life, which I have been many years 
quite willing to resign. Sir, I commit myself and my cause to the 
Ruler of Heaven and of Earth.' One gentleman observed, that 
the rule upon Earth was delegated to them, or words to that effect 
—when Mr. Murray replied : 'Sir, I conceive the God of Heaven, 
is the only Ruler in Heaven above, and in Earth beneath' — and, 
addressing the chair, he added : ' Sir, I have answered every ques- 
tion you have thought proper to ask — and as I find it difficult to 
speak, I am so very ill, I will take leave to wish you a good even- 
ing. Gentlemen, good night,' — when, without interruption he de- 
parted. 

Alas! alas ! how tyrannical is the dominion of prejudice ! in this 
instance it precipitated men, respectable men, who in the common 
occurrences of life, had uniformly preserved a decent reputation, 
upon a procedure the most absurd and unwarrantable. Interroga- 
tions so unceremoniously made to a person, who, as the almoner 
of his God, had, the preceding year, fed large numbers of their al- 
most famished poor, who had never committed any act of violence, 
or discovered the smallest inclination to aid the enemies of the 
new world, was, as we trust, a singular outrage. But Mr. Murray 
was a Christian, and after the way that they called heresy, so wor- 
shipped he the God of his fathers ; he could not therefore be al- 
lowed to merit either confidence or gratitude. 

On the Christmas day of 1780, Mr. Murray first preached in a 
small neat building, erected for his use, by the Gloucesterians. 
His adherents, associated for public worship, had, as they believed, 
organized themselves, and, solemnly covenanting together, they 
conceived themselves an independent church of Christ. A 
writing was prepared, signed by every individual of the congrega- 



190 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



tion, in which, after dilating upon the fundamental principles of 
the faith they had embraced, they professed to acknowledge, as 
Christians, no Master but Jesus Christ, receiving as their guide in 
spiritual matters, only the word and spirit of the Redeemer ; but 
they pledged themselves to the community at large, and to each 
other, to yield obedience to every ordinance of man, to be peacea- 
ble and obedient subjects to the powers ordained of God, in all 
civil cases. But as subjects of that King, whose kingdom is not of 
this world, they denied the right of any human authority to make 
laws for the regulation of their consciences ;* they rejoiced in the 
liberty wherewith Christ had made them free, and they determin- 
ed no more to be entangled by any yoke of bondage. They pro- 
fessed a disposition to live peaceably with all men, to avoid unne- 
cessary disputation ; and, should they be reviled, to endeavor in 
patience to possess their souls. We make from this solemn 
instrument the following extract : — 

' As an independent chuhch or Christ thus bound together 
by the cords of his love, and meeting together in His name, we 
mutually agree to receive as our Minister, that is, our servant, sent 
to labor amongst us, in the work of the Gospel, by the great Lord 
of the Vineyard, our friend and brother, John Murray. This we 
do, from a full conviction, that the same God, who sent the first 
preachers of Jesus Christ, sent him ; and that the same Gospel they 

* About this time the Convention was in session for forming the Con- 
stitution for the commonwealth of Massachusetts. It seems some of the 
members were somewhat alarmed at the spread of Mr. Murray's senti- 
ments ; for the following is the form of the Third Article of the Bill of 
Rights, as it was first reported to the Convention : 

' Good morals being necessary to the preservation of civil society ; 
and the knowledge and belief of the being of a God, his providential 
government of the world, and of a future state of rewards and yunish- 
ments, being the only true foundation of morality, the legislature hath 
therefore a right, and ought to provide at the expense of the subjects, if 
necessary, a suitable support for the public worship of God, and of the 
teachers of religion and morals ; and to enjoin upon all the subjects an 
attendance upon their instructions, at stated times and seasons : pro- 
vided there be any such teacher on whose ministry they can conscien- 
tiously and conveniently attend. 

' All monies paid,' &c. 

This form, after a very long and severe debate, was rejected. Pre- 
vious to the adoption of the Third Article, as it was submitted to and 
ratified by the people, it was very seriously attempted to alter it in the 
place where it says, 1 and every denomination of Christians shall be 
equally under the protection of the laws,' by having it read, ' and every 
denomination of Christians whose avowed principles are not inconsistent 
with the peace and safety of society,' or, ' except such whose principles art 
repugnant to the Constitution." But there was wisdom enough in the Con- 
vention to defeat these disguised attempts on the Liberties of the people. 

See the work lately published by order of the legislature, entitled 
* Journal of Convention, 1779-80.' T. W. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



191 



reached we have from time to time received from him. Thus 
elieving him a Minister of the New Testament, constantly declar- 
ing the whole counsel of God, proclaiming the same divine truth 
that all God's holy prophets from the beginning of the world have 
declared ; we cordially receive him as a messenger from God, 
And as it hath pleased God to open a great and effectual door, for 
the preaching of His Gospel, by this His servant, in sundry parts 
of this great continent ; whenever it shall please his and our 
divine Master to call him to preach the everlasting Gospel else- 
where, we will wish him God speed ; and pray that the good will 
of Him who dwelt in the bush, may accompany him, and make 
his way clear before him.'* 

Thus, we repeat, the little congregation in Gloucester consider- 
ed themselves an independent church of Christ. They were 
conscious that they had, in every instance, demeaned themselves 
as good citizens, and that their utmost efforts had uniformly been 
embodied, for the advancement of the public weal; they felt 
themselves deservedly invested with the privileges and immunities 
of free citizens, entitled to those liberties, with which God and nature 
had endowed them, and which they believed to be secured to 
them by a constitution of government, happily established by the 
people of this commonwealth. Dissenting essentially from the 
doctrines taught by the established minister, they had boine an 
early testimony against his settlement: and they humbly hoped, 
it would be sufficient for them to believe the holy scriptures, 
and to adopt the pure system of morals contained therein, as the 
rule of their conduct, and the man of their counsel. They 
rejoiced in the liberty of free inquiry, guaranteed by the strong 
arm of government; and they felicitated themselves, that they had 
been ushered into being at a time, when that fearful period had 
gone by, which, arming the Religionist with the potent vengeance 
of civil authority, wrapped the whole world in a cloud of impene- 
trable darkness, debilitated the human intellect, by closing the 
door of free inquiry, and gave birth to eight hundred years of 
ignorance, and barbarism, unequalled by any preceding era; 
whence arose an awful chasm in the history of the world, and 
men ceased to think, because thinking was a crime. The Glouces- 
terians adopted the idea of a respectable writer, who considered 
Ordination as nothing more than the solemn putting a man into 
his place, and office in the Church, a right to which he had 
obtained by previous election, which, together with his voluntary 
acceptance of such election, became a legitimate base, upon which 
was founded the relationship between pastor and flock. Thus, as 
the word ordain signifies no more than to appoint, they conceiv- 
ed that the election, and not the laying on of hands, completed the 
ordination. Reposing upon the second and third article in the 
declaration of rights, the Gloucesterians exultingly said : 'No sub- 

* See Appendix, note A. 



192 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ject shall be hurt, molested, or restrained in his person, liberty, or 
estate, for worshipping God in the manner and season most agree- 
able to the dictates of his own conscience ; or for his religious pro- 
fession or sentiments, provided he doth not disturb the public 
peace, or obstruct others in their religious worship. All religious 
societies shall, at all times, have the exclusive right of electing 
their public teachers, and of contracting with them for their sup- 
port and maintenance. And all monies paid by the subject to the 
support of public worship, shall, if he require it, be uniformly applied 
to the support of the public teacher or teachers of his own religious 
sect or denomination, provided there be any on whose instructions he 
attends.'' But while the Gloucesterians were confidently singing a 
requiem to their cares, they beheld, to their great astonishment, 
and no small dismay, their goods seized by an officer, and sold at 
auction, for the purpose of answering the demands of the establish- 
ed minister. Articles of plate from one, English goods from 
another, and, from a third, the anchor of a vessel, on the point of 
sailing. 

It was, as we believe, in the autumn of 1783, that this act of 
violence took place. An action was instituted by the independent 
church of Christ in Gloucester. Mr. Murray was urged to allow 
the prosecution to proceed in his name. His reluctance to this 
step was decided and affecting. He had passed through the coun- 
try without even allowing or accepting contributions; and, to be 
considered a prosecutor for monies, said to be due to him, for 
preaching the gospel, which he had determined to promulgate free 
as the light of heaven ! the very idea was a stab to his long cher- 
ished feelings : it appeared to him like prostrating the integrity of 
his character, and stripping him of those honors, which he had 
fondly hoped would remain forever unshorn. The situation of 
his mind, upon this occasion, may be gathered from two ex- 
tracts of letters, addressed to him by a respectable gentleman: 
' Yon know the inducement I had to engage in this cause was to 
be emancipated from the shackles of a pontificate ; and my aver- 
sion was ever determined, from having the suit brought in your 
name, as well from your abhorrence, as that the result, however 
favorable, would not establish us upon the broad base of genuine 
freedom. However, 1 am now convinced from reflection, that our 
cause will be ruined, unless you assume it. Mr. Hitchborne was 
clear it ought to have been in your name before ; at our pressing 
request, he drew the last writ. Mr. Sullivan has declared it must 
I be in your name. Mr. Pynchon (allowed on all hands to be deep- 
ly versed in the intricacies of the law) assured a gentleman, he 
would warrant success, and even undertake the conducting the 
cause, if the proper use were made of your name. Mr. Sewall's 
opinion is in unison with Mr. Pynchon. I hate delay and inde- 
cision, and shall lament if chicane and political views must pre- 
vail over the purest intentions.' 

To this letter Mr. Murray responded, in terms descriptive of 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



193 



much anguish of spirit, and his sympathizing friend immediately 
replied : 

' I essay not to communicate the impression which your letter 
has made upon me ; would that pen and paper were adequate to 
express all that could be conveyed by the tongue. Shall I be con- 
demned for being of an unsteady disposition, or shall I be justified 
in my change of sentimeut, from the variety of events? Be it as 
it may, it matters not ; your letter has produced another alteration 
in my mind; your conflict between the resolution you have taken, 
and the interest of your friends, which, I am persuaded, is very 
dear to you, is carried on in your breast to a degree of agony. I 
see how distressing it is for you, even in appearance, to stand forth 
and contend for what you have so nobly hdd in sovereign contempt. 
In this point of view it ceases to be a question. Let the idea of 
interest perish ; I had rather a large part of mine, dear as it is, 
should be wrested from me, than that you should sacrifice any 
portion of your peace or your honor; therefore, I entreat you, my 
dear sir, do no violence to your feelings. Thank God, the truth 
of our cause does not depend upon the decision of a court of judi- 
cature ; and admit the worst, it is only what we are bidden to 
expect, that this world is opposed to the other. Justice, however, 
notwithstanding my sympathy for you, urges me to repeat that 
our lawyers see no rational prospect of success, but from your be- 
coming a principal in the business. If you can bend your mind, 
well; take time to deliberate; delays in law, perhaps, are not so 
dangerous as in other affairs; at any rate, I entreat you to be- 
come more tranquil ; I had rather make payment to parson Forbes 
than that you should thus suffer.' 

The preacher, under the direction of many importuniug friends, 
loaned his name, which step was to him a permanent subject of 
regret.* Trials succeeded trials, review after review, at Salem, and 
at the supreme judicial court, held at Ipswich, in 1783, 1784, and 
1785. 

The pleaders seemed an invincible phalanx, and the mind-bend- 
ing eloquence of the honorable Mr. King was indeed a most po- 
tent aid. Men characterized the oratory of that gentleman, as per- 

* This perhaps is expressed too strong. It is true that Mr. Murray 
at first very unwillingly lent his name as the prosecutor ; but after- 
wards, in view of the good which resulted from the law-suit, it became 
a subject of pleasant reflection to him. Hear what he says, shortly af- 
ter his return from England, in 1788. 

1 I have been the happy instrument of which the God of peace and 
mercy has made use, to give. a death wound to that hydra, parochial 
persecution. Persons now under the denomination of independents, 
who believe and bear witness to the truth as it is in Jesus, are endow- 
ed with every privilege possessed by the national church, or established 
religion ; and, of course, my situation since my return has been abun- 
dantlv more eligible than it was previous to my departure.' — Letters and 
Sketches, ii. 351, 352. 



194 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



suading, commanding, and like an irresistible torrent, bearing down 
every obstacle. Many of the senior advocates seemed so to feel, 
and acknowledge the superiority of Mr. King, as to surrender to 
him the right of closing causes of great importance ; and a high 
law character declared, that, had he a cause depending, of the 
greatest intricacy and magnitude, to be plead before the first tribu- 
nal in the world, he would prefer Mr. King as his advocate, to any 
map. he had ever heard speak. Previous, however, to the adjudi- 
cation of 1785, when a verdict in favor of the plaintiffs, by the suf- 
frage of the jury, (exclusive of the judges, was obtained, the politi- 
cal career of this celebrated character removed him from their 
counsel, and their cause was committed to, and ably supported by, 
Mr. afterwards Governor Sullivan, and Judge Tudor. The late 
Chief Justice Parsons, and Mr. Bradbury were counsel for the de- 
fendants. The Gloucesterians, in their appeal to the 'impartial 
public,' pertinently observed that the decision of the question, agi- 
tated respecting them, ultimately involved every citizen of the com- 
monwealth, and instantly affected the several religious orders of 
Episcopalians, Baptists, Presbyterians, Sandemanians, Quakers, and 
every other denomination of Christians, who, in this state, were 
called sectaries. 

Upon the objection, that their teacher was not a preacher of piety, 
religion, and morality, they mildly observed : They were not con- 
vinced that the question could be determined from a revision of the 
motives he offered as to the rewards which are to be bestowed, or 
punishments inflicted in another world ; they rather supposed it 
should be decided upon the evidence of his urging the people to 
piety and morality, as the foundation of the greatest, good of which 
their natures were capable, and as a compliance with the will of 
their Almighty Creator and Preserver. They believed, that the 
scriptures affirmed, that God would punish men for sin, even in 
this world, in a manner which would far, very far overbalance the 
pleasures to be derived from vice. They conceived, that the idea 
that it was necessary to the good order of government, that the 
teachers of religion should thunder out the doctrine of everlasting 
punishment to deter men from atrocious crimes, which they might 
otherwise commit in secret, had long been hackneyed in the hands 
of men in power, but without any warrant from reason or revela- 
tion. Reason, without the aid of revelation, gave no intimation of a 
state of retribution beyond the grave ; and the gospel brought life and 
immortality to light : nor, said they, was it until the Christian church 
was illegally wedded to state policy, that men in power dared to hurl 
the thunders of the Most High at those who offended against govern- 
ment. But, they added, should the point be maintained, that courts 
and juries are authorized to determine, Whether the teacher of a reli- 
gious sect is a teacher of morality, from his opinion either of the cause, 
mode, or state of men's happiness or misery in another world, or from 
his opinion of the nature, or proportions of the rewards for virtue, or 
the punishments for vice in a future state, no sect or denomination 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAJf. 



195 



could be safe, it being a matter resting on opinion only, without any 
earthly tribunal having the ability or authority to settle the question. 
Suppose an Episcopalian teacher should have an action in his name 
to recover the money, paid by his hearers. Perhaps he might be one, 
who had subscribed and sworn to the thirty-nine articles, the truth 
of which is well supported by act of parliament : an objection might 
be made from one of the articles, that tells us, God from all eterni- 
ty elected a certain number to happiness, and predestinated all the 
rest of the human race to everlasting misery ; and this of his own 
sovereign will, without any regard to the merit of the one, or the 
demerit of the other. A jury might be found, who would decide 
at once, that this doctrine is subversive of all morality and good or- 
der : for, if the state of every man be unalterably fixed from all 
eternity, and nothing done by him can in any wise change the di- 
vine decree, why, then the eleot may conceive themselves justified 
in seeking to injure those, whom God from eternity has consigned 
to perdition. 

But should an Arminian be on trial, and it appeared he taught 
his people it was within their own power to procure future happi- 
ness, a jury might not be able to distinguish between the prescience 
and the fore-ordination of God ; and it might be called impiety to 
allege, that the infinitely wise Being did not from all eternity know 
the ultimate fate of all his creatures. It would at least be called 
derogatory to the honor of the Most High, to suppose anything to 
be contingent with Him ; and therefore a teacher of such princi- 
ples might in the eye of some persons be viewed as a teacher of im- 
piety and immorality. From these and various other considera- 
tions, the Gloucesterians humbly conceived that religion was a mat- 
ter between an individual and his God ; that no man had a right to 
dictate a mode of worship to another ; that in that respect, every 
man stood upon a perfect equality ; and they believed that the pau- 
city of their numbers, and the prejudices of their enemies had point- 
ed them out as proper objects for the first essay of religious tyran- 
ny ; hence they rather chose to seek redress from the great law 
made by the people to govern the legislature, than from the legisla- 
ture itself; believing they should betray the freedom of their coun- 
try if they timidly shrunk from a trial upon the great principles of 
the constitution : indeed, they seemed to consider themselves as the 
Hamdens of our religious world. 

In the course of the month of September, 1785, a writ of review 
was again served, and the final decision was referred, and deferred, 
until the June of 1786, when a conclusive verdict was obtained in 
favor of the plaintiffs. Mr. Murray was then in the state of Con- 
necticut. We transcribe an extract from a letter which wafted to 
the eye and ear of the promulgator intelligence of the emancipation 
of his adherents. 

' Last Tuesday our party with their cloud of witnesses were pre- 
sent, and called out at the bar of the Supreme Judicial Court. The 
cause was opened by Mr. Bradbury, and replied to by Mr. Hitch- 



196 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



borne ; the court adjourned to the succeeding morning. I arrived 
just in season to hear it taken up by Mr. Parsons, and closed by Mr. 
Sullivan. I wish for an opportunity to render my acknowledg- 
ments to this gentleman. He displayed upon this day an eloquence 
not less than Roman. The judges summed up the whole. The 
first was ambiguous, the second was so tramelled and inarticulate, 
as to be scarcely understood ; but the remaining three have acquir- 
ed a glory which will be as lasting as time. The conduct of Judge 
Dana attracted particular notice. You remember he heretofore la- 
bored against us ; there appeared a disposition to travers our coun- 
sel ; in his comments on the constitution, those parts which made 
for us, he turned against us ; he asserted the tax was not persecut- 
ing, but legal ; religious societies were bodies corporate, or meant to 
be so ; sect and denomination were promiscuously used, and sy- 
nonymous: and the whole was delivered with a sententious gravi- 
ty, the result of faculties laboriously cultivated by experience and 
study. But a revolution had now passed in his mind, and when he 
noticed that article in the constitution, which directs monies to be 
applied to the teacher of his own religious sect, he said the whole 
cause depended upon the construction of that clause. He had 
heretofore been of opinion it meant teachers of bodies corporate ; he 
then thought otherwise ; as the constitution was meant for a liberal 
purpose, its construction should be of a most liberal kind ; it meant 
in this instance, teachers of any persuasion whatever, Jew or Ma- 
hometan. It would be for the jury to determine if Mr. Murray was 
a teacher of piety, religion, and morality ; that matter, he said, had 
in his opinion been fully proved. The only question therefore be- 
fore them was, if Mr. Murray came within the description of the 
constitution, and had a right to require the«*noney. ' Jt is my opin- 
ion,' he decidedly declared, 'that Mr. Murray comes within the de- 
scription of the constitution, and has a right to require the money.' 
The jury received the cause, and departed the court at half past 
three. In the evening they returned with a declaration that they 
could not agree. The chief judge with some asperity ordered them 
to take the papers and go out again : they continued in deliberation 
through the whole night. Thursday morning they came in again, 
declaring their unanimous agreement that the judgment obtained 
the preceding year was in nothing erroneous. Thus have we gain- 
ed our cause, after trials of such expectation and severity. We re- 
joice greatly. It is the Lord's doings, and marvellous in our eyes.' 

Mr. Murray continued uniformly to devote the summer months 
to his multiplied adherents, from Maryland to New Hampshire ; in 
what manner, is copiously described in his Letters and Sketches of 
Sermons. In the February of 1783, we find the preacher, as usual, 
deeply interested in the cause of his Great Master, and suggesting 
in a letter to his friend and fellow-laborer, Mr. Noah Parker, the - 
propriety of an annual meeting of the heralds of redemption ; his 
words are ; ' Indeed it would gladden my heart, if every one who 
stands forth a public witness of the truth as it is in Jesus, could 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



197 



have an opportunity of seeing and conversing one with another, at 
least once every year. I believe it would be attended with very 
good effects. Think of it, my friend, and let me know the result of 
your deliberation. I think these servants of the Most High might 
assemble one year at Norwich, one year at Boston, and another at 
Portsmouth, or wherever it may be most convenient. I have long 
contemplated an association of this description ; and the longer I 
deliberate, the more I am convinced of the utility which would be 
annexed to the regulation.' 

In the September of 1785, the preacher, writing to the same 
friend, thus expresses himself: 'Although very much indisposed, 
I am commencing a journey to Oxford,* where I expect to meet a 
number of our religious brethren from different towns, in which 
the gospel has been preached and believed, for the purpose of de- 
liberating upon some plan to defeat the designs of our enemies, who 
aim at robbing us of the liberty, wherewith the constitution has 
made us free. On my return, I shall communicate to you the re- 
sult of our meeting.' Upon the close of the same month of Sep- 
tember, he thus writes : ' Well, I have been to Oxford, and the as- 
sembly convened there was truly primitive. We deliberated, first, 
on a name : secondly, on the propriety of being united in our com- 
mon defence ; thirdly, upon the utility of an annual meeting of rep- 
resentatives from the different societies ; and fourthly, upon keep- 
ing up a constant correspondence by letter. Each of the particu- 
lars are to be laid before the societies, represented by their delegates 
on this occasion, and, if approved, their approbation to be announ- 
ced by circular letters, to the several societies. Mr. Winchester de- 
livered a most excellent sermon : his subject was, 'But though we, 
or an angel from heaven preach any other gospel unto you, than 
that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.' By 
the desire of Mr. Winchester, I closed the subject.' 

Thus was a convention formed, and, we may add, organized by 
the Father of Universalism in this country. But, alas ! in no long 
time, a root of bitterness sprang up, which destroyed his pleasure 
in the association. Yet in the last stage of his pilgrimage, he fre- 
quently regretted that his attendance upon this convention had not 
been more uniform ; as he might possibly, by his years and his ex- 
perience, have met and obviated the difficulties which distressed 
him. Mr. Winchester, searching the Bible for arguments to con- 
fute Mr. Murray, became himself a Universalist, but he was a Uni- 
versalist of the Chauncian school. He was a man of pure mor- 
als, and an ardent lover of the Redeemer. 

At this period, in addition to the houses erected in Gloucester, 
and in Portsmouth, a convenient place for public worship was pro- 
cured by the Universalists in the city of Philadelphia ; and, in the 
city of. New York, a church had been purchased, which they for- 
bore to open, until it could be dedicated by the peace-speaking 



* See Appendix, Note B. 



198 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



voice of the promulgator. In the course of the autumn or winter 
of 1785, the Bostonians purchased a meeting-house in Bennet-st. 
This house they enlarged and beautified ; here Mr. Murray was oc- 
casionally their officiating minister.* And in the metropolis of Penn- 
sylvania, New York and Massachusetts, he was earnestly solicited 
to take up his residence. 

Previous to the decision obtained by the Gloucesterians, a prose- 
cution was commenced against their preacher for performing the 
marriage ceremony. Persuaded that he was commissioned by his 
God to preach the Gospel, and knowing that he was ordained by 
the people to whom he administered, he believed himself author- 
ized to receive the nuptial vows of as many among his adherents, 
as, furnished with the requisite certificates, made application to him 
for this purpose. A single instance was selected by his implaca- 
ble foes, and a special verdict obtained which condemned the preach- 
er to pay a fine of fifty pounds. But this was not all ; he had fre- 
quently performed the marriage ceremony. Prosecution would 
most unquestionably succeed prosecution ; and the sum total of 
multiplied amercements would involve difficulties not easily sur- 
mounted. Prudence whispered the persecuted man of God, that 
he ought to absent himself until the interference of the Legislature 
could be obtained ; and inclination pointed his way over the path- 
less deep for the purpose of once more visiting his native shores, hold- 
ing sweet converse with a few select friends and folding to his filial bo- 
som his venerable mother. Assured of the propriety of a step so im- 
portant to his numerous American connexions, on the 6th of Janu- 
ary, 1788, he embarked for England. Noble provision was made 
for him by the Bostonians, and all the expenses of the voyage de- 
frayed. Russell, the benevolent Russell, was his friend. Russell 
the philanthropist ; who, like his God, delighted in speaking peace 
to the sons and daughters of adversity. Dear sympathizing friend 
of man ! to the children of sorrow thy memory is right precious. 
Had thy stinted abilities been commensurate with thy will, the voice 
of gladness would have resounded in every dwelling. Nor Rus- 
sell alone ; many pressed forward, whose liberal hearts devised lib- 
eral things ; and substantial manifestation of affection to the preach- 
er were abundant and munificent. 

During Mr. Murray's absence, the Legislature was addressed. 
We regret that we cannot exhibit a complete copy of the petitions 
which were presented ; but such extracts, as we can command, we 
transcribe : 

1 To the Honorable Senate, and the House of Representatives of 
the commonwealth of Massachusetts, assembled in Boston, in 
February, 1788 ; John Murray, of Gloucester, in the county of Es- 
sex, would humbly represent to your Honors, that about seventeen 
years ago, he came into this country which he considered as the 
asylum of religion and benevolence ; that on his arrival he began 

* See Appendix, Mote C. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



]99 



to preach the gospel of peace, in doing which he met with many 
cordial friends ; some of whom, namely, a society of Christians in 
Gloucester, distinguished themselves by their uniform attachment 
to the message, and the messenger; and after your petitioner had 
occasionally labored among them, for a considerable time, they as- 
sociated together, as an Independent Church, built a meeting-house, 
and invited your petitioner to reside with them, as their settled 
minister ; and, in the month of December, in the year 1780, did 
appoint, set apart, and ordain him to the work of the ministry, and 
to be their teacher of piety, religion, and morality ; that ever since 
that period, he has considered himself, and has been considered by 
the people he has statedly labored amongst, as their ordained min- 
ister, and though your petitioner has, on sundry occasions, visited, 
and labored amongst his Christian friends, in other places, it has 
always been with the consent of his people, they still looking on 
him, and he on himself, as their ordained minister. It also appears, 
that the people, among whom your petitioner has frequently labor- 
ed, have considered him in the same light ; as they have formally 
requested license of his people of Gloucester, who, after consulta- 
tion, granted that license. Another circumstance that tended to 
confirm your petitioner in the belief of his being an ordained minis- 
ter in the strictest sense of the word, and according to the letter 
and spirit of the law, was the verdict given in favor of-him and hie 
people, by the Honorable Supreme Court and jury, when, after suf- 
fering much abuse from their persecuting opponents in Gloucester, 
they were reduced to the necessity of applying to the laws of their 
country, for redress and protection. But their opponents, dissatis- 
fied with the verdict then obtained, demanded a review ; after which 
review, the former verdict was confirmed by the full and decided 
opinion of the honorable court given in their favor. 

' Being thus, by constitutional right and legal decision, established 
as an independent minister, settled with, and ordained by, the joint 
suffrages of the members of that Religious Society, your petitioner 
supposed his troubles from his persecuting enemies were at an end. 
And upon consulting counsel learned in the law, who gave it as 
their decided opinion that he was an ordained minister, he pro- 
ceeded to perform the ceremony of marriage to such of his hearers^ 
who made application to him lor that purpose. But some of his 
opponents, unacquainted with the independent mode of ordination, 
and presuming your petitioner was not ordained, because the same 
ceremonies were not made use of in his ordination, to the use of 
which they were accustomed, brought the question of your peti- 
tioner's right of officiating as an ordained minister, before the 
Judges of the Supreme Judicial Court, who gave it as their opin- 
ion, that he was not an ordaiued minister, in the sense of the law, 
as the forms of his ordination were not sufficiently notorious. 
Your petitioner, and the people who ordained him, conceived his 
ordination was sufficiently notorious, as the article was subscribed 
by every member of the society ; and the honorable court consider- 



200 LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 

ed him a public teacher of Piety, Religion, and Morality. The re- 
cent adjudication of the honorable Judges has involved your peti- 
tioner's little flock, in Gloucester, in expense, and exquisite distress, 
and your petitioner is ruined, unless your honors can interfere for 
his relief He must not only satisfy the heavy penalty already for- 
feited, to his said opponents, and prosecutors, but he is liable to 
repeated forfeitures of like penalties for every marriage he has per- 
formed, since he has conceived himself the ordained minister of 
that people, which must involve his friends in expense, or consign 
him to a gaol. Nor is this all ; supposing his ordination invalid, 
he is, by the letter of the law, liable to ignominious punishment. 
Now, as equity is said to be that interference of the supreme pow- 
er, which alleviates, where the law, by being too comprehensive, 
has involved a case to which it was not perhaps meant to extend ; 
and as he, and his people, his council, and the world at large, sup- 
posed him ordained, as much as an Episcopalian, or any other 
teacher, however different the mode of ordination, he most humbly 
prays your honors to indemnify him for any farther prosecution, 
for any marriage he may have solemnized, under his supposed 
right ; and by this means rescue him from the persecuting power 
of his malignant adversaries, restore the exercise of religious rites 
to his oppressed, and afflicted people, establish in the Common- 
wealth, in which he has long had his residence, that peace which 
has been broken by the malice of his enemies. Your petitioner 
would in person have waited on such committee of your honors, 
as may be appointed to consider this petition, but his well-ground- 
ed fears that prosecutions would be multiplied upon him, by the 
zeal of his religious adversaries, has necessitated him to absent 
himself from the country of his adoption, and his dear people, un- 
til such time as the clemency of your honors might be obtained in 
his behalf.' 

The congregation in Gloucester addressed the legislature in a 
separate petition, and the judges, Sullivan and Dawes, co-operated 
with Mr. Russell, in persevering efforts to obtain a decision. The 
petitions were referred to a committee of three gentlemen, of great 
respectability, who speedily prepared and handed in their report, 
which was laid upon the speaker's table, whence it was drawn forth 
by the speaker of the House, James Warren, Esq., accepted by a 
handsome majority, and sent up to the Senate for concurrence. 
The report was called up from the president's table by the Hon. 
Mr. Dalton, when, after a debate of two hours, it passed the Senate 
almost unanimously. This most acceptable result was made known 
to the deeply interested Gloucesterians, by a writing, of which the 
following is a verbatim copy : 

' COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
' In the House of Representatives, March 17th, 1788. 
4 Whereas John Murray and others have represented to this 
court that the said Murray, esteeming himself legally qualified, had 



LIFE OF REV. TOHN MURRAY. 



201 



solemnized certain marriages, and that, by a decision had in the Su- 
perior Judicial Court, it was determined that the said Murray had 
no such authority, praying that he might be indemnified. Resolv- 
ed, that the said John Murray, be, and he hereby is, indemnified 
from all pains, and penalties, which he may have incurred on ac- 
count of having solemnized any marriages, as aforesaid, for which 
there has not been any prosecution commenced, or had ; and the 
said Murray may, upon trial for any of tho offences aforesaid, give 
this resolution, in evidence, upon the general issue, which shall have 
the same operation, as if specially pleaded. 

' Sent up for concurrence. James Warren, Speaker* 

< In Senate, March 27th, 1788. 

' Read and concurred. Samuel Adams, President 

< Approved. JOHN HANCOCK. 

' True copy : attest, 
'John Avery, Jun., Secretary.'' 

Meantime, the persecuted, and now nobly redressed promul- 
gator was speeding across the great waters. His passage over the 
Atlantic was uncommonly boisterous: the European winter of this 
year was very severe. More navigation and lives were lost, in the 
January and February of 1788, upon the tremendous coast of Corn- 
wall, than had ever before been known, in any one season. At 
length, however, the Chalky Cliffs of his native shore met his glad- 
dened view, and the heaven-protected vessel cast anchor in the 
commodious harbor of Falmouth. Mr. Murray was an entire 
stranger to this part of England ; but, by the Bostonians and Giou- 
cesterians, he had been furnished with recommendatory letters, 
thus worded: 

' We, the Subscribers, members of the Christian Independent 
Church in Boston, do, on behalf of ourselves and our brethren, by 
these presents, certify to all whom it may concern, that the hearer, 
Mr. John Murray, (sensed Minister of the Independent Church in 
Gloucester) for more than fourteen years past, hath occasionally 
labored among us, in this place, much to the edification, and con- 
solation of God's people ; and we bless God, therefore, and most 
sincerely pray, that the good will of Him who dwelt in the Bush 
may accompany him on his way, and bring him back to his nu- 
merous friends, richly kilen with the blessings of the Gospel of 
peace. 

(Signed by the most respectable members of the Church.) 
' Gloucester, January 4th, 173S.' 

'Be it known universally, that We the elders, on behalf of the 
Independent Churc!; of Christ in Gloucester, do certify that the 
bearer, Mr. John Murray, is, and has been for many years past, our 



202 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ordained minister, and we pray God to preserve him, and return 

him to us in safety.' 

(Signed) Winthrop Sargent, 

Epes Sargent, 
David Plummer. 

Mr. Murray was received in Falmouth with fraternal kindness* 
The Sunday succeeding his arrival, the pulpit of a gentleman, once 
in connexion with Mr. Whitefield, was thrown open to him, where 
he preached forenoon and afternoon, and continued delivering even- 
ing lectures until February 14, when he resumed his journey by 
land, to London, proclaiming glad tidings from the pulpits, as he 
passed along, to which free access was granted him ; at Truro, 
Cheswater, Tregony, Mevegessey, St. Austle, Looe, in the several 
churches at Plymouth, and Plymouth Dock, Exeter, Wellington, 
&c. &c, he delivered his God-honoring, man-restoring 'message. 
Several clergymen always attended his lectures, and one gentleman 
accompanied him even to Exeter. We select a few of the subjects, 
upon which he delighted to dwell. The lights ordained by the 
Creator for signs, Genesis iii. 15. The dress of the Jewish High 
Priest, the 1st" Psalm, the 89th Psalm, Zechariah ix. 9, 1st John 4, 
and many passages drawn from Isaiah, and the Epistles of the Apos- 
tle Paul. His manner of passing his time, and the devout propen- 
sities of his pious heart, may be gathered from a short extract from 
his journal, a journal replete with beauty and interest, to the chris- 
tianized mind, and containing descriptions and remarks, worthy 
the writer : 

' I am delighted with walking through the fields ; the gardens are 
so very beautiful, the fields so very green, the linnets and goldfin- 
ches so busy on the hedges, preparing their habitations. These 
songsters of the groves, which are vocal on every spray, are to me 
like old and pleasing acquaintance, not seen nor heard of for a great 
number of years, while the fascinating choristers, in whom I have 
taken so much delight, seem, by their cheering notes, to welcome 
me as I pass along their native fields and hedges. The primroses, 
and a variety of other sweet flowers, are already in full bloom; in 
short, every thing wears a cheerful appearance. How grateful 
ought I to be to the Author of every good, who, in this dear coun- 
try, follows me with the same loving-kindness and tender mercy, 
with which he followed me in the dear country I have left. The 
numerous friends, with whom I occasionally sojourn, are as anxious 
to detain me with them, and lament the necessity of my departure, 
precisely as did my American friends ; their hearts swell with trans- 
port, while 1 simply declare the gospel of the grace of God ; and 
they reiterate their expressions of admiration of the gracious words, 
which God enables me to utter, in like manner as did the good 
Gloucesterian Elder, Mr. Warner, on my first visit to that place. 
We mingle our supplications and addresses, our thanksgivings and 
our praises, and our hearts burn within us, while we converse of 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



203 



the goodness of our God, and the gracious purposes of redeeming 
love. Surely it would be ill judged, if not cruel, in such circum- 
stances, to dash the cup of felicity from the lips of these humble de- 
pendents upon the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, because perhaps 
they do not see to the end of the divine purposes. I never will 
preach any thing but the gospel of God our Saviour, any where ; 
but I will leave those dear people to draw their conclusions, and, 
in the interim, I will feed them with the sincere milk of the word, 
that they may grow thereby. The inhabitants of this place (Fal- 
mouth) are a very friendly, religious people. May God grant them 
peace, and give them abundant consolation in believing. The peo- 
ple every where hear with American attention. Clergymen, 
wherever 1 sojourn, are generally my hosts. Gospel, unadulterated 
gospel, is pleasant to the believing soul ; I content myself with show- 
ing that man is lost by sin ; that the law is the ministration of death ; 
that the gospel is a divine declaration of life, by Jesus Christ, to 
every creature. Yes, I will continue to preach the gospel freely 
to every creature. I will endeavor to point out its glories, and the 
many advantages attendant on believing the divine report. This, 
by the grace of God, shall still be the business of my life. Many- 
clergymen attend me in my progress ; no less than seven have been 
among my audience at one time ; and on my descending from the 
pulpit, they usually take my hand, and devoutly thank me for bear- 
ing so good a testimony for Jesus Christ ; for speaking so well of 
the Redeemer, adding, that it is a pity I should do any thing but 
preach. Numbers flock around me, and, in fact, were I an angel 
descended from above, I could not be followed with more uniform 
attention.' 

London ia two hundred and twenty miles from Falmouth. The 
preacher did not reach that metropolis until the 16th of March, and 
his time was most delightfully passed in the service of God the Sa- 
viour. Upon one occasion, his entrance into one spacious place of 
worship was hailed by the musical choir devoutly chanting: 

1 Blow ye the trumpet, blow 

The gladly solemn sound, 

Let all the nations know, 

To earth's remotest bound : 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.' 

Yet, even in this short visit to his native island, the promulgator 
went through evil as well as good report. We subjoin a specimen 
of each. A gentleman of Falmouth, writing to his friend in 
Tregony, thus expresses himself: 

'Mr. Murray will shortly be in your town; we have attended 
upon him here with inexpressible delight ; three such sermons as 
he has delivered, my ears never before heard ; such a preacher 
never before appeared in this town. I am convinced his ideas are 



/ 



204 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



all his own ; I never heard anything like them ; his mind seems 
clearly informed, and his heart very much warmed by the love of 
God.' But the following advertisement appeared in a London 
paper : 

'Mr. Murray is an American, the most popular preacher in the 
United States. In the conclusion of one of his sermons, preached 
on that continent, he endeavored to enforce with all the powers of 
eloquence, the necessity of establishing in those States the same 
Olympic games, which were for many ages established among the 
Grecians.' But this was not all; it was storied, that he had left 
America in consequence of a criminal prosecution. 

Arriving at London, he was once more enriched by the maternal 
benediction. He found his venerable parent in the enjoyment of 
a fine green old age, and again she rejoiced in the presence of her 
son. In London, and at Hamstead, in the meeting-house once 
occupied by Mr. Whitefield, he delivered his message of peace. 
Patronized in the city of London, by an opulent family, who cher- 
ished him as a son, he was strongly solicited once more to take up 
his abode in that metropolis ; but the providence of God had not 
so decreed, and, after continuing there a short time, he departed 
thence, and journied to Portsmouth, for the purpose of being in 
readiness to commence his return to America. In Portsmouth, ho 
was again a solitary stranger; but he had not been more than four 
hours in that celebrated and important emporium, ere he was 
engaged, by a respectable clergyman, to preach a lecture, which 
had been previously announced. In Portsmouth he tarried two 
weeks, preaching frequently. On his first lecture, he was solicited 
by a doctor Miller to accompany him to his habitation, where he 
abode until he departed from that town. The circle of his 
acquaintance soon became large, among whom he numbered very 
respectable friends. When the clergyman, with whom Mr. Murray 
associated, during his last residence in England, became ascertain- 
ed of his full and comprehensive views of the magnitude and extent 
of the redeeming plan, although very few adopted his ideas, yet 
they still continued warmly attached to the preacher; and the 
letters they addressed to him, after his return to America, which 
are still in being, would fill a volume. A few of the preacher's 
responses are contained in the volumes of Letters and Sketches of 
Sermons. 

Mr. Murray proceeded to Cowes, upon the Isle of Wight, and 
from thence embarking for America, commenced his voyage with a 
fair wind, which soon changing, they were under the necessity of 
dropping anchor in Portland harbor, where they were long wind 
bound. His passage was uncommonly protracted; but, fortunate- 
ly, the passengers united to give it every charm of which society is 
susceptible ; and, when we add, that our late respectable President, 
the Honorable John Adams and Lady were of the number, the 
pleasures of the voyage will be nothing doubted. Books, music, 
and conversation, varied the tedium of the passing weeks; nor 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



205 



was the preacher debarred the exercise of his sacred avocation ; 
Mr. Adams requested he would officiate as their teacher, every 
Sunday, and accordingly the ship's company, and the passengers, 
were, upon this holy day, collected round him. His first subject 
was the third commandment. They united in their addresses to 
the throne of grace, and in hymning the praises of their God. 

Again reaching the shores of this New World, the voice of 
exoneration and of Freedom bade him welcome ; and the glad 
acclamations of joy resounded among his congratulating and most 
affectionate friends. A summons from the Governor to attend a 
select party at his house, met him on the day of his arrival, and 
every liberal mind partook the rational hilarity of the moment. 

The Gloucesterians, determining no more to hazard invidious 
prosecution, and its train of evils, appointed a day, the Christmas 
of 1788, on which to renew the ordination of their pastor ; and, 
after assembling, and effectuating their purpose, that they might 
bestow upon the solemn transaction all possible publicity, they 
procured its insertion in the Centinel of January 3d, 1789, from 
which paper we transcribe it verbatim : 

' Last Thursday week, Mr. John Murray was ordained to the 
pastoral charge of the Independent Church of Christ in Glouces- 
ter. After Mr. Murray had prayed, and one of the congregation 
had announced the intention of the meeting, and presented him, 
formally, with a call, Mr. Murray replied : 

{ Persuaded of the truth of the declaration, made by the compi- 
lers of the shorter catechism, that God's works of providence are 
his most holy, wise, and powerful, preserving and governing all 
his creatures, and all their actions ; and having a full conviction 
that the affairs of the Church are, in an especial manner, under his 
immediate direction ; and that you, my christian friends and breth- 
ren, are now as formerly, under the directing- influence of that 
divine spirit, which, taking of the things of Jesus, and showing 
them unto me, constrained me to become a preacher of the ever- 
lasting Gospel, and directed you to set me apart, and ordain me, 
to be your Minister ; I now again, with humble gratitude to my 
divine Master, and grateful affection for you, my long-tried and 
faithful christian friends and brethren, most cordially accept of 
this call.' 

One of the Committee then read the vote of the Church : ' Re- 
solved, that we, the proprietors of the Independent Meeting-House 
in Gloucester, the members of the church and congregation usually 
attending there for the purpose of divine worship, do, by virtue of 
that power vested in us by the great High Priest of our profes- 
sion, the Bishop of our souls, and the Great and only Head of the 
Church ; and according to the institutions of the first churches in 
New England, and in perfect conformity to the third article of the 
declaration of rights, in this public manner, solemnly elect and 
ordain, constitute and appoint Mr. John Murray, of said Glouces- 
ter, clerk, to be our settled Minister, Pastor, and teaching Elder ; 
18* 



206 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



to preach the word of God, and to inculcate lessons and instruc- 
tions of piety, religion, and morality, on the congregation ; and to 
do, perform, and discharge all the duties and offices, which of right 
belong to any other minister of the Gospel, or public teacher of 
Piety, Religion, and Morality ; and it is hereby intended, and un- 
derstood, that the authority and rights hereby given to the said 
Mr. John Murray, to be our settled, ordained minister, and public 
teacher, are to remain in full force, so long as he shall continue to 
preach the word of God, and dispense instructions of piety, religion 
and morality, conformable to our opinions, and no longer.' 

4 The Committee then solemnly presented him the Bible, saying 
on its presenilation: 'Dear sir, We present you these sacred scrip- 
tures as a solemn seal of your ordination to the ministry of the 
New Testament, and the sole directory of your faith and practice.' 
His acceptance was affecting; as what comes from the heart reach- 
es the heart. 

* With my full soul I thank our merciful God for this inestima- 
ble gift. With grateful transport I press it to my bosom : I receive 
it as the copy of my Father's Will, as the deed of an incorrup- 
tible inheritance ; as the unerring guide to my feet, and lanthorn to 
my paths. Dear, precious treasure, thou hast been my constant 
support in every trying hour, and a never-failing source of true con- 
solation. I thank you, most sincerely do I thank you, for this con- 
firming seal, this sure directory ; and I pray that the spirit which dic- 
tated these sacred pages, may enable me to make the best use there- 
of.' A sermon by Mr. Murray, from Luke v. 2, succeeded, 1 The 
harvest is great, but the laborers are few,'' &c. &c. 

'The solemnity, attention and christian demeanor that attended 
the whole transaction of the ordination, and every other occurrence 
of the day, gave universal satisfaction to a numerous audience.' 

Days of tranquillity now succeeded ; weeks, months, nay years 
rolled on, and harmony, unbroken harmony presided. Religion 
shed her balmy influence, her mind-irradiating, passion-subduing 
consolations ; and we were ready to say, stability dwelleth even in 
our times. But alas ! we too soon experienced that 'bliss, subluna- 
ry bliss, 1 was not the durable possession of mortality. 

It was in this interval of most pleasant memory, that Mr. Mur- 
ray, in the summer of the year 1790, then on a visit to his Pennsyl- 
vania, Jersey and New York connexions, was, by the Universalists 
convened in the city of Philadelphia, associated with Mr. William 
Eugene Imley, to present j an address to the immortal Washing- 
ton, then President of the United States. We proceed to transcribe 
the address. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



207 



* To the President of the United States. 

* The Address of the Convention of the Universal Church, assembled 
in Philadelphia. 

'Sir: 

' Permit us, in the name of the society which we represent, to 
concur in the numerous congratulations which have been offered 
to you, since your accession to the government of the United 
States. 

' For an account of our principles, we beg leave to refer you to 
the pamphlet, which we have now the honor of putting into your 
hands. In this publication it will appear, that the peculiar doctrine 
which we hold, is not less friendly to the order and happiness of 
society, than it is essential to the perfection of the Deity. It is a 
singular circumstance in the history of this doctrine, that it has 
been preached and defended in every age since the first promulga- 
tion of the Gospel : but we represent the first society, professing 
this doctrine, that have formed themselves into an independent 
church. Posterity will hardly fail to connect this memorable event 
with the auspicious years of feace, liberty, and free inquiry in 
the United States, which distinguished the administration of Gen- 
eral Washington. 

' We join, thus publicly, with our affectionate fellow-citizens, in 
thanks to Almighty God, for the last of his numerous signal acts of 
goodness to our country, in preserving your valuable life, in a late 
dangerous indisposition ; and we assure you, Sir, that duty will not 
prompt us, more than affection, to pray that you may long contin- 
ue the support and ornament of our country, and that you may 
hereafter fill a higher station, and enjoy the greater reward of be- 
ing a king and priest to our God. 

* Signed in behalf, and by order of the convention. 

'John Murray. 
'William Eugene Imley. 1 



President's Reply. 

' To the Convention of the Universal Church lately assembled in 
Philadelphia. 

c Gentlemen : 

'I thank you, cordially, for the congratulations which you offer 
on my appointment to the office I have the honor to hold in the 
government of the United States. 

' It gives me the most sensible pleasure to find, that in our nation, 
however different are the seutiments of citizens on religious doc- 
trines, they generally concur in one thing : for their political pro- 



208 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



fessions. and practices, are almost universally friendly to the order 
and happiness of our civil institutions. I am also happy in finding 
this disposition particularly evinced by your society. It is moreo- 
ver my earnest desire, that the members of every association or com- 
munity throughout the United States, may make such use of the 
auspicious years of peace, liberty and free inquiry with which they 
are now favored, as they shall hereafter find occasion to rejoice for 
having done. 

4 With great satisfaction, I embrace this opportunity, to express 
my acknowledgments for the interest my affectionate fellow- citizens 
have taken in my recovery from a late dangerous indisposition. 
And I assure you, Gentlemen, that in mentioning my obligations 
for the effusions of your benevolent wishes on my behalf, I feel an- 
imated with new zeal, that my conduct may ever be worthy of your 
good opinion, as well as such as shall, in every respect, best com- 
port with the character of an intelligent and accountable being. 

' G. WASHINGTON.' 

* # * [I suppose this to have been the time at which Mr. Murray 
visited the grave of his ' earliest American friend,' Thomas Potter. 
His reflections at that event are recorded in his ' Letters and Sketch- 
es,' Vol. i. pp. 334—341. The circumstance deserves a place in his 
< Life ;' and would, in all probability, have been introduced by him- 
self, had he been permitted to have filled up the narrative to the 
time of his sickness. He carried it forward only to the close of the 
year 1774 — the remainder was written by his widow. We shall 
take the liberty to introduce the passages here. 

'My ride to this place has been very disagreeable, the heat so in- 
tense and the sand so deep, and no hospitable friend P in view 

dear, honored friend, the first patron with which I was bless- 
ed in this new world, how indulgent wert thou to me,— with how 
much benevolence didst thou cherish me, when a stranger in thy 
mansion, and how didst thou labor for my advancement. 

'Many aged persons, who were in the habit of attending my la- 
bors, have visited me. They express their honest sensibility in a 
variety of ways ; but all are overjoyed to see me ; they are solici- 
tous to pour into my ear the story of their accumulated sufferings ; 
they imagine they shall reap pleasure from commiseration ; yet 
what, alas! can helpless pity do? There is, however, much 
pleasure in communicating our sorrows to a sympathizing friend. 

'I am now in the house that once belonged to the venerable 

P , to my friend P . I am not however an occupant of the 

same apartment which he fitted up for my use, and directed me to 
consider as my own ; that apartment, and the greater part of the 
house, is devoted to those who loved not him, and knew not me. 
Alas! what is this world ! how often we thus exclaim, thus ask, 
because we imagine it is not what it should be ; were it under our 
direction it would be better managed ; but it is not nor never will 
be — One thing is certain, on life there is little or no dependence — 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



209 



This dear man, this American 'man of koss,' was suddenly- 
snatched from the scenes of time, deprived instantly of reason, and 
in a few hours of life. 'His soul proud science never taught to 
stray.' But he was a gem of the first quality, and notwithstanding 
the crust, which from his birth enfolded him, yet by the rubs he 
suffered from the pebbles among which he was placed, this crust 
was so far broken, as to emit, upon almost every occasion, the na- 
tive splendor of his intellect. Had this man in early life received 
the culture of nature's hand-maid, what a luminous figure he would 
have made ! But the God of nature had stamped upon his soul the 
image of himself, unbounded benevolence. 

' I reached this place yesterday evening, the sun was just setting 
and as I passed through the well-known fields, and saw them rich 
and flourishing in all the pride of nature. I felt an irrational kind of 
anger glow at my heart, that those fields should look so exceeding 
gay, when their master had taken an everlasting leave of every ter- 
restrial scene. The depression upon my spirits, as I reached the 
house, was indescribable ; I beheld one, and another, whose faces 
I had never before seen. An ugly mastiff' growled at me as I pass- 
ed ; and this is the first time, said I, that I was ever growled at, in 
this place, by any of thy kind ; but he was soon silenced by a lad, 
who was brought up by my friend. 'Lord bless me — Is not this 
Mr. Murray ?' Why, Matt, do you remember me ? ' Remember 
you, Sir — remember Mr. Murray — yes, indeed, Sir.' This dog 
does not, Matt.! 'But he would if he had lived in master's time ; 
but he is a stranger.' They are all strangers. Matt., are they not? 
'Indeed they are all, but my mistress and myself.' And where is 
your mistress, Matt. ? ' I will call her, Sir.' No, my good lad, not 
yet ; what have you for my horse ? ' Nothing but grass.' Noth- 
ing at Mr. P 's but grass ? < Ah ! sir, it is not now the house 

of Mr. P .' True, true, true. Leave me, my good lad, leave 

me. 

' I walked round the house, entered every avenue, looked at my 
garden ; it was made for me ; the trees, the flowering shrubs have 
run wild, and the whole surface of the spot is covered with weeds. 
This pleased me ; just so I would have it. 

This is the tree planted by my own hand; how flourishing! 
But where is the other, planted directly opposite at the same mo- 
ment, by my friend? alas! like its planter, dead! On this very 
spot I first saw the philanthropist — Can you assist me, Sir ? ' Yes, 
Sir. On what terms ? ' I receive no payment, Sir. He who 
gave to me did not charge me any thing ; you are welcome at the 
price.' — Here our acquaintance commenced — but it is ended, at 
least in the present state. I shall see him no more on this side 
eternity. On this seat we sat, and theie the tear of transport roll- 
ed down his furrowed cheek, when we conversed upon that re- 
demption which is in Christ Jesus. Under that oak we have fre- 
quently sat, contemplating the shadow from the heat, the hiding 
place from the storm. At yonder gate he bid me farewell, and 



210 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



wiped his venerable^eye ; at yonder gate I turned, he waved his 
hand, ' God Almighty bless you ; you will come again ; forget not 
your friends, your ancient friend/ If I do, said my heart, may my 
right hand forget its cunning. But I forgot thee, good old man, 
too long I forgot thee ! and now that I am at last returned, thou 
art not here to bid me, in the politest, that is in the sincerest man- 
ner, welcome. 

Mrs. P approached ; she lifted up her hands and eyes in 

speechless anguish, seated herself, changed color — no matter— the 
worst is past. I have visited the meeting-house reared by his hand 
for the worship of his God. It is embosomed in a grove of stately 
oaks, all trimmed and in beautiful order — under this shade repos- 
cth the man, by whom the house was raised, by whom the grove 
was planted. I beheld his grave ; it was not a marble, a hard mar- 
hie that informed me whose dust lay there, it was a feeling mechan- 
ic, who, having experienced much kindness from the deceased, 

wept when he told me that spot contained the dead. 1 carefully 

examined the grave, to see if any weeds grew there. — No, no, they 
had no business there. I could not pluck a noxious nettle from his 
grave : there grew upon it a few wild flowers, emblematic of the 
mind that once inhabited this insensate clay. At the loot of the 
grave stands the most majestic and flourishing of all the oaks which 
surround the grave ; it was once on the point of filling a sacrifice 
to the axe-man, but my friend solicited for its continuance, pro- 
nouncing that it would flourish when he should sleep beside it; 
•and having thus rescued it, added my informant, he has since paid 
it particular attention, which is the reason of its so far surpassing 
the other trees. 

* Peace, peace to thy spirit, thou friendly, feeling, faithful man ; 
thy dust is laid up to rest, near the house thou didst build for God, 
but thy spirit rests with God in the house built by him far thee, and 
though our dust may not meet again, our spirits will meet and re- 
joice together, in those regions of blessedness, where pain can find 
no entrance, where death can no more usurp dominion, where no 
tear of sorrow shall ever dim the joy-brightened eye, for we shall 
part no more forever. I said there was no nettle on this grave : 
one thing, however, was very remarkable ; a gourd had crept along 
until it came to, and^pread over his grave, mixing its foliage with 
the sweet-s ented flowers that grew thereon. 

'Never was place better calculated, for melancholy musing than 
this spot, so thick the grove around ; the little neat grave-yard at 
the end, the shutters of the house for public worship ali closed up, 
the lonely situation inviting the birds, their music serves to mellow 
the scene ; all, all, is most truly for solemn meditation fit. 

' By the following article in the will of my deceased friend, this 
house of worship becomes my property. 

"The house built by me for the worship of God, it is my will 
that God be worshipped in it still, and for this purpose I will that 
my ever dear friend, Mr. John Murray, preacher of the gospel shall 
possess it, having the sole direction, disposal and management of 



Life op rev. john Murray. 



211 



£aid housej and one acre of land upon which it stands, and by 
which it is surrounded. 5 ' 

' In this house of worship I have once more preached. It is full 
two years since divine service has been performed there. I select- 
ed for my subject, I Corinthians vi. 20 ; 'For ye are bought with 
a price : therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, 
which are God's.' 

At the close of this sermon Mr. Murray reverted in the following 
terms to the character of Mr. Potter : 

' Through yonder open casement, I behold the grave of a man, 
the recollection of whom swells my heart with gratitude, and fills 
my eyes with tears. There sleeps the sacred dust of him who well 
understood the advantages resulting from the public worship of the 
true God. There rests the ashes of him who glorified God in his 
body, and in his spirit, which he well knew were the Lord's. He 
believed he was bought with a price, and therefore he declared that 
all he was, and had, were righteously due to the God who had 
created, and purchased him with a price, all price beyond. There 
rests the precious dust of the friend of strangers, whose hospitable 
doors were ever open to the destitute, and him who had none to 
relieve his sufferings. I myself was once thrown on these shores 
a desolate stranger, this Christian man brought me to his habitation. 
God, (said he,) hath blessed me, he has given me more than a com- 
petency, and he has given me a heart to devote myself and all that 
I have, to him. I have built a place for his name and worship ; I 
would, continued the faithful man, erect this temple myself, with 
what God had given me. My neighbors would have lent their aid, 
but I refused assistance from any one. I would myself build the 
house, that God might be worshipped without contention, without 
interruption, that he might be worshipped by all whom he should 
vouchsafe to send. 

' This elegant house, my friends, the first friends who hailed my 
arrival in this country, this elegant house, with its adjoining grove, 
is yours. The faithful founder bequeathed it to me, that none of 
you may be deprived of it. His dust reposes close to this monument 
of his piety ; he showed you by his life, what it was to glorify God 
in body and spirit ; and he has left you this house that you may 
assemble here together, listen to the voice, and unite to chant the 
praises of the God who created, who has bought you with a price, 
and who will preserve you. 

4 Dear faithful man, when last I stood in this place, he was pres- 
ent among the assembly of the people. I marked his glistening 
eye ; it always glistened at the emphatic name of Jesus. — Even now 
I behold in imagination his venerable countenance ; benignity is 
seated on his brow, his mind is apparently open and confiding ; 
tranquillity reposeth upon his features, and the expression of each 
varying emotion evinceth that faith which is the parent of enduring 
peace, of that peace which passeth understanding. 



212 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



* Let us, my friends, imitate his philanthropy, his piety, his chari- 
ty. I may never again meet you, until we unite to swell the loud 
hallelujahs before the throne of God. But to hear of your faith, of 
your perseverance, of your brotherly love, of your works of charity, 
will heighten my enjoyments, and soothe my sorrows, even to the 
verge of my mortal pilgrimage. Accept my prayers in your be- 
half and let us unite to supplicate our common God and Father, 
for the mighty blessing of hia protection.' T. W.] 

And now a large number of Mr. Murray's first friends in Glou- 
cester were numbered with the dead. He had himself agair je- 
come the head of a family. The times were oppressive, and he 
considered it his duty to provide for those of whom he had taken 
charge. The Bostonians were solicitous to hail the preacher :is 
their settled pastor: and it was certain his usefulness would, in the 
metropolis, be more extensive. A partial separation from the Glou- 
cesterians was, by mutual consent, effectuated. It was however 
stipulated, that Mr. Murray should occasionally visit them, and that 
they should be allowed to command his presence, upon every dis- 
tressing or important exigence ; and the distance being no more 
than an easy ride of a few hours, the adjustment was accomplish- 
ed without much difficulty. Yet did the preacher continue dissat- 
isfied, until the establishment of his successor, in the midst of his 
long-loved and early friends. 

The Rev. Mr. Thomas Jones, a native of Wales, whom he had 
induced, by his representations, to unite with him in his American 
mission, is a gentleman of great respectability, of the purest morals 
and high in the ranks of integrity. Mr. Jones was educated at the 
college, established by the Countess of Huntington; in which con- 
nexion he continued, until his attachment to the doctrines of the 
gospel, in their most unlimited import, became the signal for his ex- 
clusion. The installation of Mr. Jones, in Gloucester, gladdened 
the heart of the philanthropic preacher, and his satisfaction was 
complete. The Gloucesterians love and respect their pastor, and 
their unanimity is unbroken. They have erected a new and ele- 
gant house of worship. In Salem also, and in Portsmouth and 
Charlestown, in New York and in Philadelphia, commodious build- 
ings are reared to the honor of God our Saviour. 

On Wednesday, 23d of October, 1793, the installation of Mr, 
Murray took place in the Universal meeting-house in Boston ; the 
Presiding Deacon, (Oliver W. Lane,) addressed the church and con- 
gregation : 

'Brethren, it having pleased the Father of mercies to unite in 
bonds of Christian Jove and affection the hearts of the people, usu- 
ally worshipping in this place, in the choice of Mr. John Murray 
for their Pastor and Teacher, — We have accordingly assembled to- 
gether at this time and place, for the solemn purpose of ratifying 
here below, what we humbly trust is already recorded in heaven. 
It is the duty of all men. at all times, and in all places, humbly to 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



213 



Implore the direction of the great Head of the Church, in all their 
lawful undertakings.' (Then followed an appropriate prayer by 
Mr. Murray.) After which, the Deacon demanded of the church 
and congregation, as they had heretofore expressed their desire that 
Mr. Murray should become their Pastor and Teacher, if, at this 
time they continued of that mind, they would publicly confirm it, 
by vote— ivhich was unanimous. Me then requested Mr. Murray's 
answer, Which being given in the affirmative, he concluded his ad- 
dress : ' I, therefore, in the name and behalf of this church and con- 
gregation — supported by the constitution of this commonwealth, de- 
clare you, John Murray, to be the Pastor and Teacher of this First 
Universal Church in Boston ; and in their name I present unto you 
the Sacred Volume, as the rule of your faith and practice, and as 
containing a perfect and complete revelation of the perfections and 
will of God ; and I furthermore declare unto you, that so long as 
you continue to preach the gospel, as delineated in these sacred pa- 
ges, which is glad tidings of great joy to every creature, as the pur- 
chase of the blood of Immanuel, so long yoti shall be considered 
as our Pastor, and no longer. And now, dearly beloved Sir, ' / 
charge thee, therefore, before God and the Lord Jesus Christ, who 
shall judge the quick and the dead at His Appearing, and His King- 
dom ; to Preach the Word, be instant in Season, out of Season ; Re- 
prove, Rebuke, Exhort, ivith all long Suffering, and Doctrine. In all 
things showing thyself a Pattern of Good Works : In Doctrine show- 
ing Uncorruptness, Gravity, Sincerity, Sound Speech that cannot be 
condemned ; that he that is of the contrary part, may be Ashamed, 
having no Evil thing to say of you. A Workman (hat needeth not to 
be Ashamed, Rightly Dividing the Word of Truth.'' And now, sir, 
commending you with the Church and Congregation,, over which 
the Holy Ghost hath mndeyou Overseer, to the care and protection 
of Him ' that loved us and washed us from our sins in His own 
blood,'' earnestly beseeching Him to build us all up in unity of the 
One Spirit and in the bond of peace. Now unto Him who is a- 
bundantly able to perform all these things for us, and to present us 
all faultless before the throne of an Infinite Majesty, be all honor, 
glory, dominion and power, throughout the ages of time, and a 
wasteless eternity. Amen.' 

Mr. Murray's reply was animated and replete with affection; 
after which, a hymn was performed by the choir of singers, accom- 
panied by the organ. Next, an excellent discourse by Mr. Murray, 
from 1 Cor. ix. 14 : ' For though I preach the Gospel, I have nothing 
to glory of : for necessity is laid upon me ; yea, ivo is unto me if I 
preach not the Gospel.'' ' A collection for the distressed inhabitants 
of Philadelphia succeeded the sermon, and an anthem suited to the 
solemnities of the occasion was most admirably chanted. The 
whole was conducted with strict decorum, to the satisfaction of a 
very numerous, respectable, and attentive audience. 

Perhaps no congregation were ever more unanimous, and more 
perfectly satisfied with the pastor of their election, than were the 
19 



214 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



people worshipping in the Church in Bennet Street; and perhaps 
no minister was ever more unfeignedly attached to the people of 
his charge, than was the long wandering preacher. Both the min- 
ister and congregation might truly be said to worship the Most 
High in the beauty of holiness. The ordinance of the Lord's sup- 
per was administered agreeably to their ideas of its genuine import. 
Parents brought their children into the great congregation, stand- 
ing in the broad aisle, in the presence ot the worshippers ©f God ; 
the father received the babe from the hands of the mother, and 
presented it to the servant of God ; who, deriving his authority 
lor this practice from the example of his Redeemer, who says, 
' Suffer little children to come unto me,' &c. &c, pronounced 
aloud the name of the child, and received it as a member of the 
mystical body of Him, who is the second Adam, the Redeemer of 
Men. How often has his paternal heart throbbed with rapture, as 
he has most devoutly repeated, ' We dedicate thee to Him, to whom 
thou properly belongest, to be baptized with His own baptism, in the 
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; and we 
pronounce upon thee that blessing, which He commanded his minis- 
ters, Moses, Aaron, and his Sons, to pronounce upon his people, say- 
ing, The Lord bless thee, and keep thee ; The Lord make His face to 
shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee ; The Lord lift up His 
countenance upon thee, and give thee peace? * 

* Mr. Murray rejected the practice of infant sprinkling. To him is 
to be attributed the ceremony of dedication which has obtained so gen- 
erally in the Universalist church. His sentiments on this subject will 
be found scattered through his 1 Letters and Sketches.' The following 
is a slight conversation concerning ordinances which passed between 
Mr. Murray and Rev. Elhanan Winchester, shortly after their first in- 
terview. 

' I have had some conversation Avith Mr. W. on the subject of ordi- 
nances. 

W. You do not use water baptism, 1 think, Mr. M. 

M. No, sir ; we listen to the baptist, and we hear him say : : I indeed 
baptize you with water unto repentance, but he who cometh after me 
is mightier than 1 ; he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with 
fire ; ' we know that John the baptist pointed in this passage to the Re- 
deemer, and we prefer his baptism to that of his harbinger ; nor can we 
advocate a plurality of baptisms, when we hear the Apostle say, there 
is but one Lord, and one baptism. 

W. And the Lord's supper, you lay that aside also. 

M. No, sir, we esteem this as a divine privilege ; which, while life is 
lent, we shall religiously maintain, and that too in the way our Lord 
directed his disciples to use it. * As oft as ye eat this bread and drink 
this cup, do it in the remembrance of me.' In the symbolic elements 
we behold the gathering together the many in one. 

W. Aye, aye, I have seen all that can be said on that subject in a 
piece written by a lady. Had you no hand in that performance ? 

M. Nc, sir, not a single letter, not a point, either directly or indirect- 
ly, ever was furnished by me. 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



215 



The preacher, however, never surrendered the persuasion, that 
he was sent out to preach the gospel, and his visits to his far dis- 
tant friends were frequently repeated; yet these visits were 
always made by the assenting voice of the society, and he regarded 
every individual, congregated under his directing auspices, as in an 
essential and solemn sense his children. A gentleman, attending 
in the church in Bennet-street, addressing Mr. Murray by letter, 
thus observes: 'I was very much pleased at your meeting; the 
orderly, respectable, and serious demeanor of your society ; their 
silent, and fixed attention upon you, penetrated me with sentiments 
of attachment and satisfaction, and I forbore not to invoke the 
providence of God, that no fro ward, or adverse spirit, should 
interrupt the harmony which now so evidently subsists between 
you.' 

W. I never doubted its being the performance of a lady. 
M. Why, sir? 

W. Why, sir, I know no man who could have written so well ; I 
never was better pleased with the manner of a piece in my life ; there 
is that sprightly, easy, flowery flow of expression that is more charac- 
teristic of a female pen than that of a male. 

M. Is it not amazing that it has not been attacked ? 

W. Not at all, sir ; what a despicable wretch must he be, who, how- 
ever he may be opposed to the sentiment, would dare to draw his pen 
against the author of that prefaee, in which she declares her resolution 
of retiring into her closet in the event of an attack, and answering her 
opponent with silence. I never read a more charming composition than 
that preface in my life- I should be exceeding glad to see the author. 

M. I assure you, sir, she has a strong predilection in your favor ; for, 
to speak plainly, she is almost as warm an advocate for the devil as 
yourself. 

W. Tlike her the better for it. 

M. Why, really, it is much to her honor, for the enemy has been a 
malignant enemy to her, and done her much injury; and yet in the 
same moment that she is as much unlike him as possible, she cannot 
hear of his being cursed through the wasteless ages of eternity, but 
like Captain Shandy, she hesitates not to commiserate his destiny. 

W. Would I could see her. But I have no business to contemplate 
anything beneath the skies. I am like a prisoner in momentary expec- 
tation of a cartel, which is to take me to my native country.' — Letters, 
fyc. i. 350, 351. 

In the following, Mr. Murray speaks directly of the origin of the cere- 
mony of dedication : 

1 You ask an account of the ceremony I have originated, instead of 
infant sprinkling. On my first appearance in this country, during my 
residence in the state of New Jersey, I was requested, as the phrase is, 
to christen the children of my hearers. I asked them what was their 
design in making such a proposal to me ? When they replied, they on- 
ly wished to do their duty. How, my friends, returned I, came you to 
believe infant sprinkling a duty ? 1 Why, is it not a command of God 
to sprinkle infants ? ' If you will, from scripture authority, produce any 
warrant sufficient to authorize me to baptize children, I will immediate- 



216 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



Yes, it is indeed true, that Mr. Murray considered the interests 
of the people of his charge as his own. Most fondly did he cherish, 
and perseveringly did he seek, by every possible means, to advance 
their reputation. He sympathized with the afflicted, and largely 
partook their sorrows; while, so often as the course of events 
brought joy to their bosoms, his eye beamed gladness, and his 
tongue exulted to dwell upon facts, which illum'med the hours of 
his protracted pilgrimage. His voice, at the bed of death, was the 
herald of consolation. Are there not uncounted numbers, still 
passing on, in this vale of tears, who, while attending upon their 
expiring relatives, have witnessed the divine effects emanating 
from the luminous understanding of the preacher, and lighting up 
a blissful smile of anticipated felicity, amid the agonies of dissolv- 
ing nature. To the aged he delighted to administer consolation ; 
his presence gave a face of cheerfulness to those social hours, 

ly, as in duty bound, submit thereto. Our Saviour sprinkled no infant 
with water : those who were baptized by his harbinger, plunged into 
the river Jordan, which plunging was figurative of the ablution by 
which we are cleansed in the blood of our Saviour — but infants are not 
plunged in a river. 

' Paul declares he was not sent to baptize, and he thanks God that he 
had baptized so few : nor does it appear that among those few, there 
were any infants. It is not a solitary instance to find a whole house- 
hold without a babe. The eunuch conceived it necessary there should 
be much water for the performance of the rite of baptism : all this 
seems to preclude the idea of sprinkling and of infant baptism : and 
it is said, that whole centuries passed by after the commencement of 
the Christian era, before the sprinkling of a single infant. I am, how- 
ever, commencing a long journey — many months will elapse before my 
return. I pray you to search the scriptures during my absence ; and if, 
when we meet again, you can point out the chapter and verse wherein 
my God has commanded his ministers to sprinkle infants, I will imme- 
diately prepare myself to yield an unhesitating obedience. I pursued 
my journey — I returned to New Jersey, my then home — but no authori- 
ty could be produced from the sacred writings for infant sprinkling. 
Still, however, religious parents were uneasy, and piously anxious to 
give testimony, public testimony of their reliance upon and confidence 
in the God o( their salvation. Many, perhaps, were influenced by the 
fashion of this world ; but some, I trust, by considerations of a higher 
origin. 

' I united with my friends in acknowledging that when God had bless- 
ed them by putting into their hands and under their care one of the 
members of his body which he had purchased with his precious blood, 
it seemed proper and reasonable that they should present the infant to 
the God who gave it, asking his aid in the important duty which had 
devolved upon them, and religiously confessing by this act, their obli- 
gation to and dependence on the Father of all worlds. Yet we could 
not call an act of this kind baptism; we believe there is but one bap- 
tism ; and this, because the Spirit of God asserts, by the apostle Paul, 
that there is but one baptism, and the idea of this single baptism is cor- 
roborated by the class in which we find it placed. One Lord, one faith t 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



217 



which the numerous classes, with whom he mingled, were wont 
to appropriate to enjoyment. Children lisped with infantile tran- 
sport the name of tbe philanthropic preacher, and they were even 
eloquent in expressions of unfeigned attachment. The pleasures 
of young people, if under the dominion of innocence, were uni- 
formly sanctioned by their preacher ; and his appearance in well- 
regulated circles of hilarity, so far from clouding, was always con- 
sidered as the harbinger of high-wrought entertainment. If we 

-one baptism, one God and Father of all, tcho is above all, and through all, 
and in you all. Ephesians iv. 5, 6. After much deliberation I proposed, 
and many of my hearers have adopted the following mode : The parent 
or parents (I am always best pleased when both parents unite,) bring 
their children into the great congregation, and stand in the broad 
•aisle, in the presence of the worshippers of God. The Father receiv- 
ing the babe from the arms of the mother, presents it to the servant of 
God, who statedly ministers at his altar. The ambassador of Christ 
receives it in his arms, deriving his authority for this practice from the 
example of the Redeemer, who says, Suffer little children to come un- 
to me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven. The minister, therefore, 
taking the infant from its father, who gives him, as he presents it, the 
name of the child, proclaims aloud, John or Mary, we receive thee as a 
member of the mystical body of him who is the second Adam, the Re- 
deemer of men, the Lord from heaven. We dedicate thee to him, to 
whom thou properly belongest, to be baptized with his own baptism, in 
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; and 
we pronounce upon thee that blessing which he commanded his minis- 
ters, Moses, Aaron, and his sons, to pronounce upon his people, saying, 
1 The Lord bless thee and keep thee ; 

' The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto 
thee ; 

1 The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. 

{ For this procedure we have the command, the express command of 
God. Our reason and our religion concur to approve the solemnity, 
and our hearts are at peace. 

' The Lord, we repeat, hath commanded us to bless the people ; God 
himself pronounced this blessing upon all the people, in the first Adam, 
when he placed him in the garden of Eden, and blessing and cursing 
came not from the same mouth upon the same characters. God, our 
God, is the ever blessing God ; nor are blessings given only to the de- 
serving. The blessings of providence and of grace are freely bestowed 
upon the evil and the unthankful ; and when the evil and the unthank- 
ful obtain the knowledge of this truth, they earnestly sigh to be good, 
to be grateful. 

' But the ever blessed God. not only blessed the people in their first 

feneral head, but in that seed, which is Christ. In thy seed, said the 
ord Jehovah, shall the families, all the families of the earth be blessed. 
This was a royal grant. We are not, in general, sufficiently attentive 
to this particular. It is common to talk of being blessed by, and some 
say, through Christ, but few, verv few, ever think of being blessed in 
Christ.'— Sketches, fyc. ii. 366—368. 
See also * Letters and Sketches,' iii. 345, T. W. 

19* 



218 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



except a single instance, we do not know, that, through a series of 
revolving years, tiie harmony subsisting between the minister and 
jhis congregation, suffered either interruption or diminution. This 
instance originated in political pertinacity. Party spirit occasion- 
ally ran very high ; and federal and democratic leaders were 
among the adherents of 31 r. Murray. A July Oration was to be 
delivered; much invidious disquisition was afloat; but it is fruit- 
less to delineate ; suffice it to say, that this oration, and its conse- 
quences, were pregnant with anguish to an oft-stricken heart ; but 
blessed be God, the threatening aspect of affairs, which seemed to 
gather darkness, was soon dispersed, and the sun of righteousness 
seemed to break forth, with renewed splendor. Nor is it wonder- 
ful, that transient animosities existed ; it is rather astonishing they 
were not more frequent. It was truly affectiag, it was beautiful, 
and eminently consolatory, to behold persons of the wannest feel- 
ings, and strongest prejudices, depositing every dissenting, every 
foreign sentiment, at the foot of the cross, meeting, and mingling 
souls, and emphatically, although tacitly, saying to every minor 
consideration, 'Tarry ye here, while we go up to worship.' 

Too soon have the years of felicity fled away. They rise to 
view like the vision of some blissful era, which we have imagined, 
not realized. Suddenly we were aroused from our dream of 
security ; the torpid hand of palsy blighted our dearest hopes ; the 
Preacher, the Head, the Husband, the Father, was in a moment 
precipitated from a state of high health, and prostrated beneath the 
tremendous stroke of the fell destroyer. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Record continued from October, 1809, to September, 1815, including 
the closing scene. 

Portentously the dense, dark cloud arose ; 

Long was the night, surcharged with clustering woes ; 

But, blest Religion, robed in spotless white, 

With torch of faith, pointing to realms of light, 

Marched splendid on; wide o'er the brightening way, 

Leading the saint to never-ending day. 

It was upon the nineteenth day of October, one thousand eight 
hundred and nine, that the fatal blow was given to a life so valua- 
ble, so greatly endeared, so truly precious ; but, although the cor- 
poreal powers of the long active preacher became so far useless, as 
to render him as helpless as a new-born babe ; although he was in* 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



219 



deed a complete cripple, yet the saint still lingered ; was still detain- 
ed by the allwise decree of the Most High, a prisoner in his clay- 
built tenement, nor did his complete beatification take place until the 
Sabbath morning of September 3d, 1815, lacking only a few days of 
six complete years. Yet was his patience, so far as we have known, 
unexampled. No murmur against the inflictions of Heaven escap- 
ed his lips ; praises of his paternal Creator were siill found upon his 
tongue, and the goodness of his God continued his enduring theme. 
Unwavering in his testimony, he repeatedly, and most devoutly, 
said : 'No man on earth is under so many obligations to Almighty 
God as myself; yes, [ will adore the great Source of Being so long 
as I shall exist, and every faculty of my soul shall bless my redeem- 
ing Creator.' Yet, it is true, that when the once chterful sabbath 
bells vibrated upon his ear, he would frequently lift towards hea- 
ven a humid eye, and mournfully articulate : ' Alas ! alas ! it is not 
with me as heretofore, when I could hear the tribes devoutly say, 
' Up, Israel, to the temple haste, and keep this festal day : ' Soon, 
however, his mind was hushed to peace by calm and firm confi- 
dence in his God, and he would add — 'Well, well, when I awake 
in ihy likeness, I shall be satisfied. We are asleep in the present 
state; we are asleep in the likeness of the earthly man ; all our un- 
easy sensations are unpleasant dreams. Pleasures, derived from 
mere terrestrial enjoyments, detached from intellect, are also dreams, 
and, like the baseless fabric of a vision, shall not leave a wreck behind. 
But if my life have been a continued sleep, and the greater part of 
my pains, and pleasures, dreams ; yet, while this deep sleep has been 
upon me, the Almighty hath instructed me ; yes, blessed be His name, 
the roof of His mouth is as the best wine, which goeth down sweetly, 
causing ike lips of those who are asleep to speak. O! for more of this 
best wine, that my lips may show forth his praise, that 1 may drink 
and foget all sorrow.' 

Thus was the tenor of his mind generally acquiescent, and his 
impatience to be gone was frequently subdued, by an operative 
conviction of the sovereign wisdom, as well as paternal Jove of 
Deity. His bible was his constant companion. Seated by his af- 
fectionate assistant, in his easy chair, and the book of God opened 
before him, the man of patience, during six succeeding years, pass- 
ed the long summer mornings from the sun's early beams, in ex- 
amining and re-examining the will of his august Father. He 
had, through a long life, been conversant with a variety of English 
authors. Poets, dramatic writers, essayists, and historians, were fa* 
miliar to him ; he took great delight in perusing them ; but, travel- 
ling through those multiplied pages, might be termed his excur- 
sions, while the sacred volume was his intellectual home. Ma- 
ny hours in every day were devoted to the attentive perusal of the 
scriptures, and yet his sentiments were unvaried ; not a single fea- 
ture of the system, he had so Jong advocated, was changed. 

Mr. Murray was fond of calling himself the Lord's prisoner ; and 
he would add, I am, by consequence, a prisoner of hope. During 



220 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



his confinement many respectable gentlemen, clergymen in Boston, 
visited him. One or two repeated their visits, and they apparently 
regarded the now white-haired servant of God with kindness and 
respect. One clergyman questioned him respecting his then pre- 
sent views, wishing to ascertain if his faith were still in exer- 
cise, if he were willing to depart. ' O yes, yes, yes,' exclaimed the 
long-illumined christian, 'the glorious manifestations of divine love 
still brighten upon me. Right precious to my soul are the promises, 
the oath of Jehovah ; and, sir, so far from shrinking from my ap- 
proaching change, my only struggle is for patience to abide, until 
the time appointed for my emancipation. I would cultivate a hum- 
ble, child-like resignation ; but hope deferred, doth indeed too often 
make the heart sick.' Another gentleman congratulated him on 
his apparent convalescence — ' Oh ! sir,' he returned, '^the voice of 
gladness suits not my present feelings ; it is, as if, when I believed, 
I was voyaging to my native shores, where health, happiness, and 
peace awaited me, borne onwards by gales the most propitious, and 
supposing myself almost in the moment of obtaining the long de- 
sired haven, when suddenly driven back by some adverse circum- 
stance, instead of being soothed by condolence, I am pierced to the 
soul by the discordant sounds of felicitation.' Yet, we repeat, the 
revered teacher was in general astonishingly patient, resigned, 
and even cheerful. He was frequently heard to say, that he 
had experienced, in the course of his confinement, more of the 
abundant goodness of his God, than through the whole of his pre- 
ceding life ; and those, most conversant with him, could not for- 
bear observing, that the protracted period which would in pros- 
pect have risen to the eye with a most melancholy, if not terrific 
aspect, taken as a whole, exhibited the saint more equal, calm, and 
dignified, than any other six years of his existence. A respectable 
gentleman, not of his persuasion, but candid and benign, remark- 
ed, that his character was elevated to no common height ; that his 
uncomplaining endurance of suffering, and the unwavering stead- 
fastness of his faith, had stamped his testimony with the seal of 
integrity, and gave that confirmation to his confidence in his own 
views of sacred writ, which could not fail of rejoicing the hearts 
of his adherents. 

The chamber of adversity was occasionally illumined by the 
presence of friends ; and one sympathizing, kind-hearted, affec- 
tionate brother was so uniform in his appearance, with the close of 
every week, that we might almost have designated the day, and 
the hour of the evening, by his approaches. Nor was the demise 
of his teacher the period ot his kindness; his countenance, his aid, 
his commisseration, his society, are still loaned to the solitary, the 
bereaved family. Dear faithful man ! May the rich blessings of 
Almighty God rest upon thee and thine, until thou hast finished thy 
mortal career ; and mayest thou, in the regions of blessedness, renew, 
with thy beloved teacher, that friendship which, while tenanted in 
clay, thou hast so well known to appreciate. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



221 



To three other gentlemen, devoted adherents to the lamented 
deceased, warm acknowledgments are, also, most righteously due. 
Their kind, and still continued attentions, are gratifying proof of 
their attachment to him, who was so dear to them ; and gratitude 
hath, with mournful alacrity, reared her altars in the bosoms of the 
widow and the fatherless. 

Some strange occurrences were noted, which filled the heart of 
the venerable man of God with sorrow, unutterable sorrow. Eve- 
rything seemed to point homeward to the sky, and upon Lord's day 
morning, August twenty -seventh, one thousand eight hundred and 
fifteen, at tour o'clock, an esp-ecial summons was despatched by the 
Most High, to recal his long-tried servant ; but alas! we did not re- 
cognize the messenger ; we rather believed that the circumstances 
which marked the acknowledged change, would look with a friend- 
ly aspect upon the health of the beloved man, during the succeed- 
ing autumn and winter: but the honored sufferer himself, appar- 
ently better informed, anticipatingly observed — * Who knows, per- 
haps the liberating hour is at hand ; ' and his feelings were always 
elated or depressed, in exact proportion as the moment of his de- 
parture seemed to advance or recede. 

The progress of the new disease was astonishingly rapid. A 
physician was summoned, who permitted the indulgence of hope. 
On Tuesday, 29th, his complaints evidently abated, insomuch, that 
while the features of his strongly marked face expressed the deep- 
est mortification, he tremulously exclaimed, ' Am 1 then once more 
thrown back, the melancholy subject of alternate hope and fear ?' 
On Wednesday, every symptom increased : he obtained little rest, 
and hone manifestly triumphed in his bosom. Another physician 
was called in, whose doubtful answers to proposed questions crea- 
ted much alarm. He seemed to consider nature as surrendering 
her offices. In the course of Thursday, 31st, he repeatedly and 
earnestly said. ' 1 cannot be sufficient!}' thankful to God my Sa- 
viour, that I suffer no pain, either of body or mind.' To a young, 
and tenderly interested friend, he smilingly observed, ' I am hasten- 
ing through the valley of the shadow of deatn : I am about to quit 
this distempered state ; yet a little moment and I shall be received 
into the city of the living God, with the innumerable company of 
the apostles, and spirits of just men made perfect, and I shall con- 
tinue forever in the presence of my divine Master.' 

His family solicited his blessing. 'You are blessed,' he replied, 
'you are blessed with all the spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus ; and, 
remember,' he added, fixing his dying eyes upon them, 'remember, 
that however tried in this world, there is another and better state 
of things; and that, although pierced in this vale of tears by the ar- 
rows of unkindness and ingratitude, there is One who loveth you, 
with an everlasting love, and who will never leave you nor forsake 
you.' 

On Friday morning, September 1st, some expressions gave posi- 
tive proof of his sanity : but as the day advanced, his derangement 



222 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



was supposed unquestionable, and from this hour, until Saturday 
evening, a little after sunset, he continued, with few intervals, inco- 
herently repeating the most consolatory passages in the book of 
God. His right hand was constantly in motion, and when any one 
approached, whatever might be the question, the answer was ready. 
'To Him.' said the expiring christian, ' shall the gathering of 

THE PEOPLE BE, AND HlS REST SHALL BE GLORIOUS, GLORIOUS, 

glorious. I am blessed with all spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus. 
Nor I alone, Christ Jesus hath tasted death for evert man,' 
&c. &c. These God-honoring, man-restoring truths, were audibly 
articulated, while voice and strength continued ; and when speak- 
ing only in a whisper, to the listening ear applied to his moving lips, 
.it was ascertained that the same consolatory assurances still dwelt 
upon his tongue. Was this delirium ? or, if it were, was it not a 
delirium irradiated by the powerful influence of redeeming love? 
Did not the luminous truths, upon which the noble, the capacious 
mind had so long reposed, beam refulgent over the scattering frag- 
ments, then dissolving, which had for a term of more than seventy 
years, embodied the immortal tenant ? 

Almost immediately after sunset on Saturday evening, he ceased 
to speak; his right hand no longer waved, and he continued in the 
same position, in which the enduring kindness of his faithful assist- 
ant had placed him, until six o'clock, Lord's-day morning, Septem- 
ber third, one thousand eight hundred and fifteen ; when, without 
a sigh, or a struggle, or a single distortion of countenance, he ex- 
pired, His long-imprisoned spirit escaped to the God who gave it 

It did not appear through the whole of Friday and Saturday, 
that he suffered the least pain, except when an attempt was made to 
move him. His breath grew shorter and shorter, like the sweet sleep 
of a tired infant, until it could no more be distinguished. He de- 
parted this life in the seventy-fifth year of his age. 

Sacred be the scene which immedately succeeded. We do not 
wish — we attempt not to lift the veil; but we exult in the convic- 
tion, that we shall, ere long, follow the emancipated spirit to the 
abodes of blessedness. 

The interment could be deferred only until Monday evening, 
September 4th. Funeral honors were, 'promptly and unanimously 
decreed. The children of the society, distinguished by a badge of 
mourning, preceded the body ; a long, solemn, well-ordered and re- 
spectable procession followed the train of mourncs; private car- 
nages were added to those appointed by the society ; the body was 
deposited upon stands in the aisle of the church; the pulpit and 
galleries were hung with black; religious exercises were perform- 
ed ; when it was entombed with the ashes of those to whom he had 
been fondly attached. Everything, which immediately referred to 
the sacred remains of the deceased, was liberally provided by the 
religious adherents of the promulgator, and the arrears which ivould 
have been due to the family, had the vote of March, 1815, been 
similar to that of March 1814, were paid, to a single farthing. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



223 



CHAPTER IX. 

Conclusion. 

And now the feverish dream of life is o'er. 

Had we talents, we would exhibit a portrait of the deceased : — 
But, besides that we feel ourselves inadequate to a task so arduous, 
we are not perfectly convinced of its propriety. Friendship might 
be too warm, and admiration too lavish. His colleague has been 
his eulogist, and no friend of the deceased will pronounce the pan- 
egyric an exaggeration. Perhaps it does not contain a more just, 
or a more happy paragraph than the following : ' Without a second 
to aid him, you saio him pass along these shores from Maryland to 
New Hampshire, like the lonely Pelican of the wilderness, publishing, 
as with the voice of an angel, the tidings of everlasting life to the 
whole world, in the name, and through the mission of our hord Jesus 
Christ: 

It has been said that persuasion dwelt upon the lips of our phi- 
lanthropist. The pages of recollection furnish many instances of 
his powerful and soul-subduing eloquence. We are impelled to 
select, from the fading record, two facts which are well authenti- 
cated : 

A London mob had assembled in great force, with the most de- 
structive and murderous designs. Time-honored edifices were to 
be demolished, and the weapons of death to be pointed at the most 
valuable lives. This scene of riot was exhibited during the troub- 
les relative to Mr. Wilkes ; all was tumult and tremendous uproar ; 
an attempt at reasoning was stifled by outrageous clamor ; the ef- 
forts of peace officers were fruitless, and the military was on the 
point of being called into action, when Mr. Murray, returning from 
some religious meeting to his peaceful home, found himself in the 
midst of the infuriated rioters, and instantly mounting a stand, which 
opportunely presented, he harangued the lawless multitude ; and, by 
soothing their prejudices, addressing their passions, and pointing 
out the only legitimate steps for the purpose of obtaining redress, 
he first obtained silence, next softened and ameliorated their pas- 
sions, and finally dispersed, without mischief, a most enraged popu- 
lace. A nobleman, seizing him by the hand, impressively said, 
i Young man, I thank you ; I am ignorant of your name, but I bear 
testimony to your wonderful abilities. By your exertions, much 
blood and treasure have this night been saved.' 

The second instance which we present is nearer home. A mo- 
tion was made in the legislature of a sister state, then province, to 
raise a sum of money for the relief of the Bostonians, suffering from 
the severe decrees of a British ministry. Mr. Murray attended the 
debates ; the motion was seconded, and supported with spirit and 



224 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



judgment, and it was opposed with some violence and little rea* 
son. It was put to vote, and lost by a majority of twelve persons ; 
Mr. Murray's particular adherents voting against it. It happened 

he was on that day to dine at the house of a Doctor B , one 

of the triumphant majority, with several gentlemen on the same 
side of the question, when his powerful animadversions and reason- 
ing upon the subject wrought so great a revolution as to produce a 
re-consideration of the vote, and the motion for succoring the Bos- 
tonians passed, by a majority of nine persons. 

Mr. Murray has been accused of licentious opinions and practi- 
ces. His letters to his friends would fill many volumes; address- 
ed to the private ear of those he best loved, they ought to decide 
upon his opinions ; and, for his life, perhaps no man of abilities so 
stinted was ever a greater blessing to mankind. We indulge our- 
selves with giving one letter, written to the son of a most intimate 
friend : 

'You are placed at school for two purposes; the improvement 
of your understanding, and the formation of virtuous principles. 
It cannot be doubted that the improvement of the heart is esteem- 
ed by those to whom you are most dear, beyond the most cultivat- 
ed intellect. It is your business to unite these estimable objects ; 
your heart and understanding should be emulous in pursuit of 
excellence. Ethics, improved and elevated by the christian 
religion, become the guides to real wisdom and solid happiness; 
these they could never have attained in the schools of heathen 
philosophy. It is not expected that you should thus early be 
engaged in the profound disquisitions of theology. The plain 
doctrines of the religion, which it is hoped you will profess, have 
been explained to you ; but the principal business is to open your 
heart for the reception of those sentiments and principles, which 
will conduce to the direction of your actions, in the employments 
and engagements of your subsequent life. Permit me, however, to 
remind you of the necessity of reading the scriptures, that is, of 
drinking the sacred waters at the fountain head. But, to read the 
scriptures with advantage, judgment is necessary, and as your 
judgment is not yet matured, you must submit to the direction of your 
m st meters. The plainest, and most perspicuous passages will, for 
the present, best deserve and reward your attention. The histori- 
cal parts of the Old Testament will entertain you, if you consider 
them only in a classical point of view, as valuable passages of 
ancient history ; but I would call your attention more immediately 
to the books which are most replete with moral instruction, such 
as the Proverbs of Solomon, the Wisdom of the Son of Sirach, 
and the admirable book entitled, Ecclesiasticus. I trust the time 
will come, when the prophecies will most pleasingly instruct you ; 
at present you will peruse them for the poetical beauties, which 
ihey confessedly display. Isaiah abounds with fine passages of 
this description, and Jeremiah is by no means deficient in this 
line. You have no doubt read Pope's Messiah, and could not but 
have observed, that its most pleasing imagery is selected from Isai- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



225 



ah. If you read the Old Testament with a taste for its beauties, 
you will accomplish two important purposes ; you will acquire a 
knowledge of the Holy Bible, which is your duty, and you will 
improve your taste and judgment. The New Testament requires 
the attention of every one, who professes himself a christian. You 
must read it with that humility, which becomes a finite being, but 
more particularly a young person ; you will do well to pay espe- 
cial attention to the Sermon on the Mount, and to that admirable 
epitome of all moral philosophy, the rule of doiing to others as 
we would they should do unto us. If you pay due obedience 
to this precept, you will never hesitate in determining what part 
you are, upon every occasion, to act. It is proper you should 
familiarize your mind to the language of scripture ; although you 
may not fully comprehend the sacred writings, you will thus 
treasure up in your memory many useful passages, which may 
become in future highly consolatory. An early acquaintance with 
the letter of the Old and New Testaments, has been found sub- 
stantial props through lengthening years ; but all this, my dear 
young friend, will avail but little, unless you add thereto prayer 
and praise. Make it therefore a rule, never to be violated, to pray 
night and morning. The Redeemer, while clothed in humanity, 
earnestly and fervently addressed the Deity ; forget not, therefore, 
to offer your private addresses to the Father of your spirit, at 
retiring to rest, and with the early dawn. Your age is the age 
of inadvertence; you enjoy health, and you are a stranger to the 
cares of the world. Cheerfulness does indeed become you, but let 
me pray you to consider the value of time, and the importance of 
appropriating it to wisdom. Consider your parents; the anxiety 
they experience upon your account: most ardently do they desire 
your improvement. Laudably ambitious, they are solicitous that 
you should be eminent, in whatever profession or employment you 
may be destined to engage. To see you contemptible, would fill 
them with the extreme of anguish : and, trust me, nothing will 
rescue you from contempt, but individual merit, a good disposition, 
adorned by literature, and embellished by the lighter accomplish- 
ments, and especially elevated by Christianity. Your parents have 
labored indefatigably, to promote you ; but it remains with your- 
self to give success to their endeavors. The mind is not like a 
vessel, into which we may pour any good quality, whatever the 
director may choose ; it is rather like a plant, which, by the opera- 
tion of its own internal powers, imbibes the nutriment afforded by 
the earth. I repeat; it is certain that instructers can serve you 
only in conjunction with your own efforts. Let me then entreat you 
to exert yourself, if you have any regard for those parents, whose 
happiness so much depends upon your conduct ; if you have any 
regard tor your own honor, felicity, and prosperity ; if you hope to 
be useful, and respected in society. 

4 Always consider me as your friend and servant, 

' JOHN MURRAY.' 

20 



226 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



If the testimony of respectable contemporaries ; of men who dis- 
dained flattery, and whose judgment was unquestionable ; who 
delighted to address our departed friend in the strains of panegy- 
ric— if these vouchers were permitted to decide in his favor, we 
could produce a cloud of witnesses. We content ourselves with a 
few extracts, from the many letters which might be produced. 
General Greene thus writes: 'You may remember, I promised 
you a letter at the close of every campaign. Had I the tongue of 
a Murray to proclaim, or the pen of a Robertson to record, the 
occurrences of this campaign should be delineated to the honor of 
America. The Monmouth battle, and the action upon Rhode- 
Island, were no small triumphs to us, who had so often been ne- 
cessitated to turn our backs. To behold our fellows, chasing the 
British off the field of battle, afforded a pleasure, which you can 
better conceive, than I describe. If, my dear Murray, I had 
before been an unbeliever, I have had sufficient evidence of the inter- 
vention of Divine Providence, to reclaim me from infidelity : my 
heart, I do assure you, overflows with gratitude to Him, whose 
arm is mightier than all the Princes of the earth. In the midst of 
difficulties, and I have encountered many, my heart reverts to 
you ; were you addressing me from the pulpit, you could convince 
me that considering the World to which I am hastening, 1 have 
not the least cause of complaint — I sigh for an opportunity of 
listening to the music of your voice. 

' Are you and the priests upon any better terms ? Or are they 
as mad with you as ever? Well, go on, and prosper, and may 
God bless you to the end of the chapter.' Again, General Greene 
writes : ' It is, my dear sir, a long time since you and I have had 
a friendly meeting. God only knows when we shall be thus blest 
It is impossible for me to give you an adequate idea of the distress 
of the once happy people of New Jersey. 1 know your fancy is 
lively, and your genius fertile; give your faculties full scope, in 
drawing a picture, and it will still fall far short of the original 
How greatly would you be pained were you present ; you who 
sympathize with everything in distress, and feel and share the mis- 
eries of all around you. Oh, my dear, my dear friend, may God 
preserve you from such complicated distress. Soon after you left 
me upon Long Island, J was seized with a violent fit of sickness; 
my restoration was unexpected, but my health is now confirmed. Oh 
what would I give for a few hours uninterrupted conversation with 
our dear Murray. I beseech you to visit Mrs. Greene in Coven- 
try.' One more extract from the letters of General Geeene shall 
suffice. 'Once more, on the close of the campaign, I am to an- 
nounce to my very dear friend, that I am still an inhabitant of this 
globe. We have had a hard and bloody campaign, yet we ought 
rather to dwell upon the mercies we have received, than to repine 
because they are not greater. But man is a thankless creature : yet 
you, dear Murray, know, that the mercies of God are happily pro- 
portioned to our weakness. Retired to winter-quarters, the social 
passions once more kindled into life. Love and friendship triumph 



LIFH OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



227 



over the heart, and the sweet pleasures of domestic happiness call 
to remembrance my once happy circle of friends, in which you, my 
dear sir, appear in the first rank. My friendship for you, is indeed 
of the warmest description. My attachment was not hastily form- 
ed, and it will not easily be relinquished. I early admired your 
talents ; your morals have earned my esteem ; and neither distance 
nor circumstances will diminish my affection.' 

The subjoined extracts are from letters written by gentlemen of 
high respectability, in the mercantile, literary and christian world. 
The first extract is from a letter, soliciting a visit from the preacher. 

'The grand, the glorious expedition in which you are engaged, 
to disseminate truth and knowledge ; the assurances we can give 
you how little is known here, and how eagerly it is wished that the 
ways of God to man should be made manifest, will, I trust, induce 
you to make an exertion in our behalf. My ardent prayer is for 
your life, and health. The harvest truly is great, but the laborers 
are few; yet I trust in God, that the beams of light will irradiate 
this benighted world, and that he will accelerate that eternal day, 
when the Son shall give up the kingdom to the Father, and God 
shall be all in all.* 

1 You solicit me to write ; my writing can afford you no novelty, 
for what intellectual ground is there that you have not trod, or that 
I can mark out, which you have not before observed. I am wea- 
ried with reiterated reflection, and I pant for that sky, where I may 
range without confinement. The simple truths of the gospel please 
me much. I rest in confidence that Christ died for me, rose again 
for my justification, and will make me completely blessed; that I 
am essentially united to, and a part of that nature, which pervades 
all space, and a spark of thajt fire that shall escape to heaven, its na- 
tive sea-t. I recollect your preaching with pleasure, and I bless God 
for the light he has been pleased to convey to my rnind, through 
your instrumentality. May your labors be blest with abundant suc- 
cess ; but I predict the genuine gospel laborers will be but few. 
Poor man ! you must stand singly opposed, without human aid ; be 
persuaded that the conflict will be inferior to your strength. I re- 
ally despise the world for their treatment of you ; but you know 
who says, ' Be of good cheer, 1 have overcome the world? What mild- 
ness was there in the majesty of the person of the Redeemer ? He 
could have been no other than the Deity enrobed in a mantle of 
flesh. I venerate the liberal, the magnanimous principles of your 
general and your colonel ; and I love them for their friendship for 
you, and the estimation in which they hold you. It is so rare to 
meet with liberal and enlarged minds, that when I do, I exult at 
the discovery, and my soul leaps to embrace them. Should you 
have a vacant moment, you will do well to fill it by writing to us, 
your children.' 

f Never, my dear Murray, can I forget you, while memory holds 
her seat in this benighted vale. The impressions are too lasting to 
be effaced, and so deeply are they marked together, that, when the 



228 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



ideas of the great redemption arise in my mind, those of Relly and 
Murray are inseparable therefrom, as the mediums through which 
sublime truth beamed upon my soul. I am desirous of anticipa- 
ting that adult age, you so beautifully describe, when knowledge 
shall be conveyed, not by the obstructed tongue, or tardy pen, but 
by intuition. But, my dear sir, you must wait till that expected 
day, before I can tell you how much I esteem, how much I love 
you. Among a number of things you have taught me, I reckon 
it not the least, that the disposal of human affairs is in the direc- 
tion of a Being, whose operations will always produce the best con- 
sequences. I, however, find it difficult to suppress the indignation 
I feel at the treatment you receive. What shall cure these distem- 
pered minds? what shall compose the tumult of their frenzy, or 
rouse their feverish repose ? not the skill of an Isaiah, nor the pray- 
ers of a Paul ; nothing short of the prescription of the grand Phy- 
sician, who is the Healer of Nations, and the application of that 
tree, whose leaf is for medicine. My wishes for you in this case 
are vain ; but I can never appreciate the aspirations of my heart ; 
not that you may be exempt from the conflict, but that you may 
conquer, and you will conquer ; your reward is above, secure from 
the rage of impotent man, and the invasion of the grand adversary 
of human nature.' 

' To be possessed of your confidence and friendship, would be 
flattering to me in the highest degree. My wishes are to deserve 
both. You do indeed appear to me a chosen one, an elect soul. Call 
these expressions extravagant, if you please, but they are as far 
short of what I feel, as language is inadequate to the expressions 
of the refined taste of the mind.' 

'Among the almost innumerable systems, respecting our nature, 
being, and our end, in which the world has been so perplexed, and 
have exposed themselves so variously, none claims so fair a title to 
truth as the one you promulgate. But the world have not so liberally 
attributed goodness to Deity. Our benignant religion developes the 
goodness of God in the enlightening sun, the fructifying rain, the 
cheering wine, and the nutritious bread. In short, in a thousand 
million examples, with which nature so liberally abounds. Indeed 
we should seldom be unhappy, did we more constantly realize the 
presence of a redeeming God. I admire the candor of your mind, 
which is ever stepping forth, as the advocate of your friends, al- 
though I may occasionally drop from that stand in your friendship 
which it would be my pride to maintain ; it is a persuasion, which 
I can never relinquish, that the wanderings of my heart may be re- 
claimed in an instant. Your letters are under my pillow ; 1 bind 
them to me as phylacteries, and I attentively watch for a moment 
of leisure to acknowledge them. Murray, should you pass out of 
time before me, I should experience some exquisitely painful sen- 
sations. O ! may you be for a long time to come, invulnerable 
to the shafts of disease : yet why should I wish to turn the dart 
that will give you passport to a life of bliss and immortality ! You 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



229 



who agonize at the present state of existence. No, let me neither 
accelerate nor retard, even by a wish, that period of humanity, but 
invoke our common Father that we may be strengthened by the 
way, and with faith and patience quietly wait the expected release.' 

' Your letter, my dear Murray, is like a great magazine, full of 
instruction and entertainment. Were 1 to attempt to give it due 
and just consideration, I should write a volume, and probably not 
succeed at last. You say, and I believe it, that we shall be built up 
again upon a superior principle. The world is so involved in the 
wicked one, that I am really glad to find any one willing to allow 
the goodness of God in any view ; it is at least one step toward a 
just way of thinking. I pray you to be content with your present 
standing ; you are too infirm to visit far from home ; where you 
6peak, you are heard by many strangers, who enter your Capital, 
whom you know not, but who hear and know you ; so I think your 
station is clearly pointed out, to which you do well to adhere. I 
regret exceedingly, that I cannot attend your expositions of the cer- 
emonial law, in which I understand your are engaged. Those laws 
are a deep and rich mine of instruction. The Scriptures are One, 
like a great Epic ; their action is One, the Reestoration of a lost 
nature. The subordinate parts evidently point to the great Head 
and captain of our salyation. Go on, my dear sir, and may you be 
the means of bringing many sons to glory. Allow me to say, you 
ought to write more frequently ; your diligence and activity are 
well known to me ; but it seems incumbent upon you to give the 
world your explanations of the sacred writings. Yes, I repeat, you 
would do well to bestow some portion of your time to record and 
elucidate many passages, which, when you are gone, may speak 
for you. 

The event of your death, however dreaded, must be met by the 
greater part of your hearers ; and, although they may have remain- 
ing to them the sacred writings, yet you are aware that a preacher 
is necessary. 1 have compared you to some of the general ele- 
ments of life, whose good and salubrious existences are not known 
until they are lost. I consider you employed in removing the scales 
from the darkened eye, fortifying the timid mind against the ap- 
proaching dissolution of nature, securing it from the blandishments 
of delusion, and leading it to arm against the terrors of calamity 
and pain. I myself am indebted to you in hundreds of instances 
for light, and most important information, I need not repeat my 
best wishes to you ; they present themselves to me in full, when- 
ever your memory occurs to me. I feel that it is hereafter, when 
you and I are liberated, that I shall derive a part of my happiness 
from the perfection of your friendship. May the least and lightest 
pains infest you here : this is the utmost a mortal dare wish or re- 
quest. 

• Yes, my dear Sir, I am now sensible of the value of existence ; 
and the insurance of immortality has become my greatest happi- 
ness. TJie time was, when, to my serious moments, immortality 



230 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



appeared garbed in horror : many a time have I wished I had nev- 
er been born ; but, blessed change, 1 can now perceive that light, 
which shined in me, even then, — although my darkness compre- 
hend it not ; but, blessed be God, my eyes are at length opened. 
O ! may God, all-gracious, watch over you, aud preserve you from 
every evil. The Almighty in great mercy hath loaned you to a 
benighted world ; may the rich blessing be long continued.' 

' Gratitude, dear and honored Sir, calls upon me to acknowledge 
my great obligations for the glorious declaration of those important 
truths, of which until I had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Murray, I 
was entirely ignorant. From that blessed era, 1 date the com- 
mencement of my terrestrial felicity. It is to you, as an instru- 
ment, I am indebted for a glimpse of the beautiful harmony of the 
sacred writings; I can now behold, with devout admiration, the 
great salvation promised us by the word, by the oath of Jehovah, 
in that holy book, which, although possessed by many, is neither 
understood nor valued, except by a few elected individuals. I much 
wish for your continued instruction ; and I know you take pleasure 
in considering it your duty to impart your knowledge of the Re- 
deemer to the creatures whom He hath purchased with His blood. 
Would it were the will of God to give you a permanent standing 
among the circle of my friends, who are so greatly devoted to you ; 
then, dear Sir, would our heaven be commenced upon earth, and 
all would be one continued scene of uninterrupted praises and 
thanksgiving, for the great Redemption, wrought out by the death 
and sufferings of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' 

4 Murray, how greatly you succeed, when engaged upon a theme 
which 1 emphatically call tour own. I love to hear you speak 
upon any subject ; but on this, you are, I had almost said, divine ; 
your whole soul seems engaged, when dwelling upon the Redeem- 
er, and his love to man ; nothing but the voice of the God who 
made you, and who hath so wonderfully endowed you, can exceed 
the honied accents of your heaven-inspired tongue. Do you won- 
der that I am daily wishing myself among the number of your 
hearers, your happy hearers ! but how contrasted is the life of a 
soldier, to that of the peaceful christian, seated at the feet of Je- 
sus.' 

A respectable gentleman, writing, nearly two years since, from 
the city of Philadelphia, and speaking relative to the recent publi- 
cation of the venerable, the now departed saint, gratefully says: 
< These volumes, your Letters and Sketches, are all I hoped for, 
wished, or expected ; they are much more. 1 bless God, not only 
for the treasures of wisdom committed to his venerable servant, but 
also that his valuable life has been preserved to accomplish this 
Work ; a production, which will live, and be read with ineffable de- 
light, when the rubbish of ages shall have been consigned to ob- 
livion.' 

Should any euriosity exist respecting Mr. Murray's political sen- 
timents, it may be sufficient to say, that he was in heart an Amebi- 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



231 



can. America was the country of his adoption. He was decid- 
edly and uniformly opposed to the oppression of the British minis- 
try, and he would have embraced any upright measures to have 
procured redress ; yet, perhaps, he would have been as well pleas- 
ed, had England and America been united upon terms of equality 
and reciprocal benefit ; nor can it be denied, that he was, indubita- 
bly, an Anti-Gallican. In our opinion, a total dereliction of country 
stamps miscreant upon the individual, who harbors feelings so 
reprehensible. England was the native country of the preacher ; 
the virtues flourished in his bosom, among which the amor patriae 
glowed with no common lustre. He frequently amused himself 
with writing in numbers, whicty, so soon as written, he generally 
committed to the flames. The following inartificial lines, writ- 
ten one hour after he received intelligence of the demise of the 
celebrated and meritorious Earl of Chatham, may be considered as 
a correct delineation of his political views and wishes. 

1 Swift on the car of fancy borne along, 
And safely landed on my native Isle, 
I join the mourning train, assembled there, 
And stand unnoticed near the hallowed corse : 
I mark the empty pageantry of state, 
A pageantry, alas i not empty here, 
For here are real signs of real wo ; 
All ranks, all orders, mingle in the throng ; 
Some raise the voice in majesty of wo : 
Some silent stand as statues — pale with grief-* 
At sight of these, my tears more copious flow. 

Hark — from yon seat a voice assails my ear, 
Than music in its softest strains more sweet. 
'Tis Camden ! favored sage, exalted chief, 
He calls his mourning country to attend, 
As thus he pours the elegiac strain. 

4 From life's- low vale where all was calm repose, 
And, taught by heaven, the mind drank classic lose, 
To the tumultuous scenes of busy life, 
This peerless man, in hour of dread dismay, 
By pitying Heaven, in mercy to our land. 
Was summoned forth. He gracious heard, and caria, 
Hailed by Britannia's united voice ; 
His royal master looked benignly kind, 
And bade him welcome to his arms, his heart ; 
For howsoe'er remote their varied spheres, 
Congenial souls, 't would seem, informed them both. 

No longer view'd as servant, but as friend, 
In all his Sovereign's councils he had part, 
Their hopes and feara, their aims and ends the tame. 
The Nation gave her treasures to his care, 
Himself the richest treasure she possess'd ; 



232 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



And anxious eyes from every rank were raised, 
With serious awe, and steadfast hope to him ; 
Nor were their hopes, their expectations vain. 
New life, new views, fresh vigor nerved his arm ; 
All that was wrong, his vigilance set right, 
And, what was greater far, preserved it so. 
The foes he met (for who from foes is free) 
Were, to the peerless jewel of his worth, 
Like toiling lapidary to the costly gem, 
They made its brightness more conspicuous shine. 

The fawning sycophant oft sought his smile, 
But piercing eye-beams struck the caitiff blind ; 
The foes to virtue trembled at his nod, 
While her glad sons flocked hovering round their sire. 
The merchant watched his eye ; the sons of art, 
The swain who turns the glebe, but chiefly he 
On glory bent, who ploughed the watery way, 
Panting to grasp the treasures of the globe, 
He carefully this pole-star still observ'd, 
And safely voyaged, with this star in view. 
How wild, alas ! he '11 wander now 't is hid. 

The secrets of all states, blest heaven-taught sage, 
To thy pervading eye were all unveil'd, 
And every dark intrigue was known to thee. 
The Gallic power trembled at thy nod, 
And proud Castalia, cowering, bent to thee. 
In dire suspense the awe-struck nations stood, 
Nor could predict where next would burst the storm. 

Lo ! as he points, our castles float along, 
And British thunders roll from shore to shore ; 
The sooty tribes of Afric shrink appall'd, 
And China's crafty sons distrust their skill. 

In this great legislator's hand, our flag, 
Like that fam'd wand into a serpent chang'd, 
As Hebrew sages sung in days of yore, 
Made every other flag obsequious bow, 
And every nation own'd or felt his power. 
But, while remotest lands through fear obey'd, 
His grateful country serv'd with filial love, 
And every son of Albion shared his care. 

Nor did the British garden, blooming round 
Alone engage the heavenly laborer's toil ; 
With watchful eye he viewed those tender shoots, 
Whilome transplanted lo Columbia's soil ; 
Those tender lambs he gently led along, 
And to their plaints still bent a parent's ear. 
Dear, much loved offspring of this happy Isle, 
With us, sincere, ye mourn the common loss ; 
With us lament the father and the friend : 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



233 



But, while our bursting hearts deplore his flight, 

Perfidious Bourbon ghastly grins his joy ; 

The Gallic cock now feebly claps his wings, 

And thinks to hear the lion roar no more. 

Base, treacherous, cringing, dastard slaves, beware ; 

Although our sun be set to rise no more, 

The moon and stars shall guide the lion's paw 

To seize thee trembling in thy close retreat. 

Already mark ! he shakes his shaggy mane, 

And growling rises from his murky den ; 

His eye-balls roll with rage — they shoot forth flames ; 

He grinds his teeth, and finds them solid still; 

He tries his paws, and finds his talons strong. 

Our groans have rous'd him ; see, he sleeps no more, 

But still the royal issue of this isle, 

This highly favored regent of the main, 

Secure may stand, nor fear the lion's rage. 

What though the Demons of this land may strive 
To set the gen'rous lion on her sons, 
The lion shrinks — so ancient bards declare — 
Nor will destroy the issue nobly born. 
But those perfidious, who would set him on, 
With ghastly looks, and souls appall'd by fear, 
Too late shall feel the horrors of despair.' 

But it is the Religionist we are solicitous to characterize ; aud 
although the sentiments of the preacher may be gathered from his 
writings, yet, as this volume may come under the eye of some indi- 
viduals, who may not possess the publication to which we have so 
often alluded, it may be proper, in this place to attempt a brief out- 
line of the most prominent features in his creed. 

His full soul believed in one great and indivisible First Cause 
or origin of all created beings ; before this great First Cause one 

ETERNAL NOW, WAS, IS, AND WILL BE EVER PRESENT. Every 

thing which has past, is passing, or shall pass, was ordained in His 
eternal purpose, and actually passed in review before Him, ere ever 
the worlds were formed, or countless systems commenced their 
revolutions. 

The God of our Philanthropist was omnipotent, omnipresent, 
aud omniscient ; consequently he performed all his will ; was, is, 
and will be, present through all space, through time and through 
eternity. In the prosecution of His plans, myriads of angels, in 
their various orders, were by his omnipotent power commanded 
into being ; these cherubim and seraphim, angels and archangels, 
surrouuded the throne of the Most High. The morning stars sang 
together, and all the hosts of heaven rejoiced. 

But, strange as it may appear to our finite understanding, fell dis- 
cord, with peace-destroying influence, reared his hydra, his tre- 
mendous head. Various conjectures hover round this phenomenon. 
The origin of evil has exercised intellects the most profound and 



234 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



erudite ; but he, who can develop the arcana of the Almighty, may 
claim equality with his God. It should be our care not to attribute 
to Deity a mode of conduct irreconcileable with rectitude ; and to 
keep close to that revelation, which he hath graciously vouchsafed 
to bestow upon us. 

The creation of man succeeded the fall of the angelic nature. 
God said, — Let Us make man, &c. &c. Speaking in the plural, 
with an eye to the complexity of that character He had predeter- 
mined to assume, and, as we before observed, past, present, and fu- 
ture, constituted, the token of Deity, one complete whole ; and thus 
were important occurrences garbed in language, suited to the eleva- 
tion of the Godhead. In process of time, this august Creator, was to 
be enrobed in humanity and become the son born ; was to be exhibit- 
ed as a holy spirit of consolation, taking of the things of Jesus, 
and exhibiting them to the mind; thus speaking peace. Mr. Mur- 
ray was at the same time a Unitarian, and a Trinitarian, be- 
holding, constantly beholding the trinity in the unity. Let us 
make man in our image, after our own likeness, — Yea, verily, man 
may be considered as made in the image, and after the likeness of 
his Creator. The figure is striking ; man is a triune being, body, 
soul, and spirit, yet no individual is considered as three, but one man, 
the Trinity and Unity. The Almighty, clad in garments of flesh, 
became the God-Man, and, speaking of Himself as man, he says, 
my Father is greater than me ; while, reverting to the divinity he af- 
firms, the Father and He are One. Philip, have I been so long with 
thee, and dost thou say, sho w me the Father ? he who hath seen me, 
hath seen the Father. Was this true, — or was Jesus Christ an impos- 
tor? In this view the scriptures are beautifully consistent. I am 
God the Saviour ; a just God and a Saviour; there is none be- 
side me. — This same evangelical prophet exultingly exclaims, Isaiah 
ix. 6 ; Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, his name shall 
be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting 
Father, the Prince of Peace. Such were the comprehensive views 
of Deity, which became more and more luminous to the mental eye 
of the preacher. 

He believed that the creation of human beings made a part of 
the divine purpose ; in which sacred, uncontrollable, and irreversi- 
ble purpose, the whole family of man were originally and inti- 
mately united to their august Creator, in a manner mysterious, 
and as much beyond our limited conception, as the Creator is su- 
perior to the creature whom He hath formed. 

Adam the first was a figure of Adam the second. Adam the 
first, the prototype ; Adam the second, the substance of the prototype, 
the Creator of all Worlds, the Lord from heaven. The sacred 
scriptures abound with figures of this mysterious, this ennobling, this 
soul-satisfying Union ; among which, perhaps, none is more expres- 
sive than that of the Head and Members constituting one body, of 
which Jesus Christ was the immaculate Head. Hence the propri- 
ety and necessity, of looking with a single eye to Jesus Christ, 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



235 



We are members of the body of Christ, ivho is the head of every 
man : Should a single member of this mystical body be finally lost, 
the Redeemer must, through eternity, remain imperfect. 

A Law was given, to the complete obedience of which, ever- 
lasting life was annexed ; but no individual member was ever able 
to fulfil this Law ; it was only the head and members collectively 
in their glorious head, that was furnished with abilities adequate to 
a performance of such vast magnitude. Yea, verily, we do indeed 
break the Divine Law, in thought, in word, and in deed, and the 
lip of truth declares, he who offends in one point is guilty of all. 

Why then was the commandment so exceeding broad? To 
convince mankind of imbecility ; and that the rectitude they had 
forfeited, could never, in their own individual characters be 
regained. But the plan of Deity was without an error, the revo- 
lution of time ushered in the great Representative, or, more proper- 
ly speaking, the Head of the body ; and the forfeit, was paid, full 
atonement was presented, the ransom given, and, in this hour of 
nature's jubilee, the prodigal family restored to their original 
possessor. 

To make this truth manifest was the great business of our pro- 
mulgator. He was convinced, that only he, who believed, could 
be saved ; and that he, who believed not, was indubitably damned. 
Hence he has frequently said, he did not believe in universal salva- 
tion, because he saw the majority of mankind were not saved. But 
he was a firm believer in Universal Redemption; because that 
sacred volume, which he steadfastly, and unwaveringly believed 
to be the word of God, assured him the price was paid, and the 
whole human family was redeemed. 

It was the neglecting to distinguish between salvation and 
redemption, which so frequently drew upon the preacher the 
charge of prevarication, or, as it was termed by Mr. Croswell, 
hiding. An article of intelligence may be an established fact; it 
may most importantly affect us ; but so long as the mind refuses 
to admit its authenticity, we are undeniably subjected to all those 
agonizing apprehensions, which we should endure, if no such fact 
existed ; and it was the salvation from these mental sufferings, 
which Mr. Murray supposed consequent upon a preached Gospel ; 
in other words, an exemption from those tortures, that conscious- 
ness of condemnation, which is most emphatically described, when 
it is said, He who believeth not, is, or shall be damned. 

Yet it is an established truth, that every believer was once an 
unbeliever ; every believer, then, was once damned, and it was only 
when he became a believer, that he ivas saved from those countless 
agonies, which erst times pierced him through with many sorrows. 
But he was redeemed, the price was paid, ere ever he was called 
Into existence. Thus, in this view, redemption and salvation are 
distinct considerations. 

The preacher unhesitatingly believed, all who learned of the 
Father would come to Jesus, and that all would finally be taught of 



238 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



God. He was a decided believer in the doctrine of angels of light, 
and angels of darkness, of ministering spirits of light, and of 
demons stimulating to deeds of darkness. He looked forward to a 
judgment to come, when countless numbers, amoug the children of 
men, would rise to the resurrection of damnation, and, ignorant of 
the genuine character of the Redeemer, would call upon the rocks 
and mountains to fall upon them, and hide them from the wrath 
of the Lamb ; and, believing himself a humble instrument in the 
hand of God, ordained by Him to the ministry of reconcilation, he 
was never so completely happy, as when declaring the gospel to 
be believed ; and calling upon men every where, to receive the 
glad tidings of salvation. He was persuaded that those, who lied 
down in sorrow, would continue unhappy wanderers, until the 
opening of that book, in which every human being, every member 
of Christ was written ; yet he had no idea of any purgation for sin, 
save what was suffered by Christ Jesus, ivho, by Himself, purged 
our sins. Writing of Mr. Winchester to a friend, Mr. Murray thus 
expressed himself: 'Mr Winchester is full with Mr. Law, and of 
course preaches purgatorial satisfaction. According to these 
gentlemen, every man must finally be his own Saviour! If 1 
must suffer as much, in my own person as will satisfy divine 
justice, how is, or can Christ Jesus be, my Saviour? If this 
purgatorial doctrine be true, the ministry of reconciliation, commit- 
ted to the apostles, must be false; 'to wit, God was in Christ 
reconciling the world unto himself not imputing unto them their 
trespasses.'' In fact, I know no persons further from Christianity, 
genuine Christianity, than such Universalists.'* 

Mr. Murray supposed the inquietude of unembodied, or depart- 
ed spirits, a natural effect derived from a cause. As unbelievers, 
they cannot see the things which belong to their peace ; but he 
greatly rejoiced, that, however, at present enveloped in darkness, 
there were, and are, things that did and do belong to their peace ; 
that the day cometh, when whatsoever is hid shall be revealed; and, 
that at the period of the restitution of all things, the word, the oath 
of Jehovah was pledged, that every eye should see, and every 
tongue confess. The preacher was persuaded that a few even in 
the present dispensation, were elected out of the world, to 
embrace the truth, previous to their passing out of time. These 
judging themselves, are, therefore, not to be judged ; Saints of 
God, they shall surround the Redeemer at his second coming, or 
be caught up in the air to meet the God-Man ; after which, the 
whole world shall be summoned at the imperial bar of the Sire of 
angels and of men, the Creator of all worlds: That a separation 
will then take place ; the Judge, the Redeemer will divide them, 
as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats; will separate 
every individual from that body of sin and death, of which Paul 
complained, being burdened ; from that fallen spirit, which attach- 



* See Appendix, Note D. 



LIFE OF REV. JOHxV MURRAY. 



237 



es to every individual in such sort as to the man among the tombs, 
rendering it a truth, that he who sieepeth, apparently alone upon 
his bed, is, nevertheless, still connected with his tormentor, and 
will so continue, until this glorious day of separation and of 
restitution ; when these two shall be separated, one from another, 
the one taken, the other left. The fallen angels, figured by the 
goats, shall be ranged on the left hand, while the harassed human 
nature, redeemed by the God who created it, shall be found on the 
right hand of the Most High. Thus, after the world is judged, 
out of the things written in the books ; after they are found guilty 
before God, and every mouth is stopped, the book of life shall 

BE OPENED, IN WHICH ALL THE MEMBERS OF THE REDEEMER, 
EVERT INDIVIDUAL OF THE HUMAN FAMILY, SHALL BE FOUND 

■written : and the ransomed of the Lord shall be declared deni- 
zens of that kingdom, where dwelleth felicity uninterrupted. 

Such were the leading sentiments of Our Universalist ; and 
he was firmly of opinion that the doctrines of the Gospel, rightly 
understood, would teach men everywhere to be careful of main- 
taining good works, to love one another, and in all things to regard 
the best interests of their brother man. 

Conversant with the preacher upwards of forty years, we never 
knew his testimony to vary in the smallest degree. In joy and in 
sorrow, in health, in sickness, and in death, not a single cloud ap- 
peared to gather upon the countenance of his God, or to obstruct, 
so far as it referred to his prospects beyond the grave, the clear sun- 
shine of his soul. 

If we except the Rev. John Tyler, Episcopalian minister in Nor- 
wich, Connecticut, and the Rev. Edward Mitchell, in the city of 
New York, we do not know that the sentiments of any preacher of 
Universalism now upon this continent are exactly in unisou with the 
departed promulgator. But if they build upon the great founda- 
tion, we devoutly wish them God speed ; well assured that those 
who build upon this foundation — gold, silver, precious stones, wood, 
hay, stubble — every man's work shall be made manifest. For the day 
shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire : and the fire shall tiy 
every man's work, of what sort it is. If any man's work abide which 
he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man's work 
shall be burnt, he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved ; yet 
so as by fire. 

Mr. Murray's last marriage was the result of a strong and holy 
friendship, founded upon the Rock of Ages ; and, originating in de- 
vout admiration' of redeeming love, it is fervently hoped, and un- 
waveringly believed, that this union will be perfected in another 

AND A BETTER WORLD. 

One son and one daughter were the offspring of this marriage. 
The son surrendered his innocent life in the birth ; the daughter 
still survives, the prop and consolation of her widowed mother. 
21 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. 

The following is the entire instrument which was drawn up as 
the uniting compact of the society in Gloucester. Every one who 
peruses it, must be highly pleased with the truly Christian spirit 
that it breathes. 

'New England: State of Massachusetts, January 1st, 1779. 

' Inasmuch as it hath pleased God, of his great mercy, in every 
age of the world to choose a people for himself, giving them his 
fear and revealing to them his secret; and as this Great Lord of 
Heaven and Earth, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, hath been 
pleased to reveal unto babes, what he has hid from the wise and pru- 
dent ; We, the subscribers, greatly affected with a sense of the Di- 
vine Goodness in thus distinguishing us, who had nothing in us to 
merit his notice, think it our interest and bounden duty to ' let our 
light shine before men, that they may see our good works, and glo- 
rify our Father which is in Heaven.' As therefore it hath pleased 
God to make us acquainted with the voice of the good Shepherd, 
the Lord Jesus Christ, the great Shepherd and Bishop of our souls, 
we cannot from henceforth follow the voice of a stranger ; nor ev- 
er give attention to such as are unacquainted with the Saviour of 
the world. But though we cannot have fellowship with them 
whose fellowship is not with the Father and with the Son Jesus 
Christ, yet we are determined, by the grace of God, never to forsake 
the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is ; but 
as a church of Christ, meet together in bis name, being persuaded 
wherever or whenever two or three are thus met together, the in- 
visible God will be present with them. 

'As Christians, we acknowledge no Master but Christ Jesus, and 
as disciples of this Divine Master we profess to follow no guide in 
spiritual matters, but his word and his spirit. As dwellers in the 
world, though not of it, we hold ourselves bound to yield obedi- 
ence to every ordinance of men, for God's sake; and we will be 
peaceable and obedient subjects to the powers that are ordained of 
God in all civil cases; but as subjects of that King whose kingdom 
is not of this world, we cannot acknowledge the right of any hu- 
man authority to make laws for the regulating of our consciences 
in any spiritual matter. 

* Thus as a true Independent Church of Christ, looking unto Jesus 
the author and finisher of our faith, we mutually agree to walk to- 



240 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



gether in Christian Fellowship, building up each other in our most 
Holy Faith, rejoicing in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us 
free, and determining by his grace no more to be entangled by any 
yoke of bondage. As disciples of the meek and lowly Jesus, we 
resolve, as far as in us lieth, to live peaceably with all men ; yet as 
believers living godly in Christ Jesus, we expect to suffer as 
much persecution as the laws of the country we live in will admit 
of. But we resolve, by the grace of God, none of these things shall 
move us to act inconsistent with our characters as t Christians. We 
will, as much as possible, avoid vain jangling and unnecessary dis- 
putation ; and should we be reviled, endeavor in patience to pos- 
sess our souls. 

' As an Independent Church of Christ, thus bound together with 
the cords of love, and meeting together in his name, — We mutual- 
ly agree to receive as our minister, that is, our servant sent to labor 
amongst us in the work of the Gospel, by, the great Lord of the 
vineyard, our friend and christian brother, John Murray : This we do 
from a full conviction, that the same God that sent the first preach- 
ers of Christ Jesus, sent him ; and that the same gospel 1 hey preach- 
ed, we have from time to time received from him ; thus believing 
bim a minister of the New Testament, constantly declaring the 
w r ho!e counsel of God, proclaiming the same divine truth that all 
God's holy prophets from the beginning of the world hath declar- 
ed, we cordially receive him as a messenger from God ; and as it 
hath pleased God to open a great and effectual door for the preach- 
ing his gospel, by this his servant, in some parts of this great conti- 
nent, whenever it shall please his and our Divine Master to call 
him to preach the everlasting gospel elsewhere, we wish him God 
speed, and pray that the good will of Him who was seen in the 
bush, may accompany him and make his way clear unto him. But 
should he at any time preach any other gospel than that which the 
Apostles proclaimed, we will not wish him God speed, but consid- 
er him as a false teacher; and whereas, the great Lord of the har- 
vest has taught us to pray that he would be pleased to send forth 
laborers into his harvest, and as he never taught us to pray doubt- 
ing, but has assured us that every one that asketh receiveth, and 
whosoever seeketh findeth ; and as the promise of the divine pres- 
ence is, to any two or three that meet together in the Saviour's name, 
we are resolved, by God's grace, whether we are blessed with the 
public preaching of the word or not, as often as we find conveni- 
ent to meet together, to supplicate the Divine favor ; to praise our 
redeeming God; to hear his most holy word, and freely to commu- 
nicate whatever God shall please to manifest unto us, for our mu- 
tual edification. And that we may more effectually show forth his 
praises, who hath called us out of darkness into his marvellous 
light, we resolve to pay a serious regard to his expostulations, ad- 
monitions and instructions given to us by the spirit of God, in the 
Epistles dictated to our Holy Apostles. We will, as far as in us 
lieth, do good to all men, but especially unto them of the house- 



APPENDIX. 



241 



hold of faith. We will, by the grace of God, in word and in deed 
endeavor to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour. As children 
of One Father, as members of one head, We, who are bound to- 
gether in christian fellowship, will, once every month, meet togeth- 
er to hold conference, and deliberate on whatever may tend to our 
mutual edification and profit.' 



Note B. 

General Convention of the Universalists of the New- 
England States, and others. 

The following letter addressed to the Universalist Society in Glou- 
cester, Mass. by the Universalist Society in Oxford, Mass. will show 
the origin of this body. 

'Oxford, August 28, 1785. 
' The Second Religious Society in Oxford, to Mr. John Murray 
and his Society, sendeth greeting : This Society would wish to con- 
gratulate you in the most reciprocal manner, on account of our hap- 
py Constitution, which tolerates free liberty of conscience to all de- 
nominations of Christians, which cause highly corresponds with 
the rules of the gospel. But as we expect the executive part of 
the government will make the most scrutinous investigation into 
the matter, in order to know who are to be denominated Christians 
in the Commonwealth ; we, being duly sensible that our strength 
depends on our being cemented together in one united body, in or- 
der to anticipate any embarrassment of our constitutional rights, 
have in some measure organized ourselves, that we may be known 
as a religious body. And though it may be acknowledged univer- 
sally that we belong to the spacious family of the great parent of 
the Universe, yet we are like a child without a name. And as we 
have had the happiness of Mr. Murray's administrations in this 
town when we were in a state of miniature as to religious knowl- 
edge, therefore we would wish to correspond with the Society at 
Gloucester. And being informed that you act upon the principle 
of ' universal benevolence,' it induces this Society most earnestly 
to desire your friendship and correspondence and advice ; for which 
purpose this Society have appointed an Association to be held at 
Oxford, on the 14th day of September next, in order to take into 
consideration what measures will be the most conducive to the good 
of the society at large. For which purpose we have also written 
to Boston, Providence, &c. } desiring their attendance at the time 
and place offered. And we should be exceedingly happy to wait on 
Mr. Murray at the said place, with any of your brethren you shall 
choose. And as your advice and assistance will be of much con- 
sequence to the society at large, we wish for an interview with you. 



242 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



And may the God of peace be with you and,bless you, which is the 
sincere desire of your friends at Oxford. 

'Per order, Daniel Fisk.' 

To which the following answer was returned : 
' Brethren : 

'The Independent Society of Gloucester have received your 
friendly epistle of the 28th of August, and are glad to express their 
satisfaction in an opportunity to correspond with you on a subject 
so important as that held out by your letter. God and nature have 
made us free, and we hope to enjoy religious liberty by right, and 
not by sufferance. There is no doubt the executive and judicial 
departments of government will be attentive to exert and retain all 
the power they possibly can ; but we conceive our cause is so close- 
ly interwoven with the cause of the other sectarians, we trust that 
no jury will be found so uninformed as not to see, that in sacrific- 
ing us they destroy themselves. The compass of this sheet would 
be insufficient to detail a history of what we have passed through, 
as well as of our present state. A number of pamphlets sent you 
herewith, will in some measure answer that purpose. 

'Had we been a little earlier apprized of your design, one of our 
society would have accompanied our dear friend and brother, John 
Murray, whom we have sent on this occasion. . We declare our- 
selves ready to afford you all legal, brotherly, and christian aid in 
our power, considering ourselves to be strengthened by our union 
with you. Praying that the Saviour of the world would afford you 
freedom, peace, and comfort, we are with friendship and esteem, 
your brethren at Gloucester, B. H. Hordan. 

< Sept 10th, 1785.' 

Here follow the records of the Association at Oxford, as laid be- 
fore the society in Gloucester, by Mr. Murray, Sept. 28, 1785. 

' Oxford, Sept 14, 1785. 

' At a meeting of the " Second Religious Society in Oxford," to- 
gether with Messrs. Elhanan Winchester, Shippie Townsend, Abi- 
jah Adams, John Murray, Francis Liscombe, Daniel Melvil, John 
Lazeel, Ebenezer Sumner, Noah Wiswall, Samuel French, Caleb 
Rich, and Laban Bates, council fr.om the different religious socie- 
ties corresponding with said society, it was 

Voted, That Mr. Elhanan Winchester be chosen moderator of 
said meeting. 

Voted, That Mr. Daniel Fisk be clerk. 

Voted, That this meeting be adjourned to Thursday, the 15th 
inst. at 9 o'clock in the morning. 

Thursday Sept \5th, 1785. — Met according to adjournment. 

Voted, by the several committees, to adopt the name of ' Inde- 
pendent Christian Societies, commonly called Universalists.' 

Voted, That each of the committees from Boston, &c. shall con- 



APPENDIX. 



243 



vey to their several societies, together with the name adopted, a 
proposal to consider the propriety of each society's agreeing not 
only to be called by one name, but to be cemented in one body ; 
consequently bound by the tics of love to assist each other, at any 
and at all times when occasion shall require. 

Voted, That it be recommended to the several societies, that com- 
mittees of correspondence be appointed, to write circular letters, in- 
forming them what measures they have adopted in three months 
from the date hereof. 

Voted, That the committees propose to their constituents the 
propriety of an annual meeting, and that the first be held in Boston, 
the second Wednesday in September, 1786.' 



Note C. 

The following outline of the rise and progress of the First Uni- 
versalis! Society in the city of Boston,, was hastily sketched for the 
gratification of the brethren in Convention assembled, at Lebanon, 
(N, H.) Sept. 15th, 1830. 

In the year 1785, the society of the late Cotton Mather sold their 
place of worship to Shippie Townsend, John Stoddard, John Page, 
Josiah Snelling, and others ; but there does not appear to be any 
records commenced until January 1st, 1786, when it is recorded 
that various sums of money were collected each sabbath ; the first 
as follows, viz. : ' Jan. 1, 1786, by contribution, £2 Is. Delivered 
Mr. (Adam) Streeter £2 Is. Jan. 15th, by contribution, £4 9s. 6d. 
Delivered Mr. (John) Murray £4 9s. 6d. Jan. 22, by contribution, 
£3 9s. Given between Messrs. Streeter and Murray, £3 9s.' In this 
manner the records continue until Sept. 12th, 1786, when 1 find the 
following: 'Received of Shippie Townsend, John Stoddard, James 
Prentiss, John Page, and Josiah Snelling the sum of £16 4s. lid, 
as a contribution from the christian society in Boston, for the relief 
and benefit of the widow and children of our deceased brother Ad' 
am Streeter, to be disposed of for said purpose, according to our 
best discretion, with the advice of the widow. (Signed) Samuel Da- 
vis, Jr., Daniel Fisk.' 

Brother Murray continued to preach from time to time, and re- 
ceive from 2 to £4, by contribution, until Sept. 1788, when I find 
the following record : ' Sept. 14th, 1788. Voted, to request Mr. 
Murray to minister to us one half his time, or as much as he can, 
consistent with his other engagements.' ' Sept. 28. Voted, to give 
Mr. Murray £4 per fortnight, or every Lord's day he preaches, or 
£104 a year.' — The society continued to conduct their concerns in 
this manner until Feb. 1792, when doubts arose in the minds of 
many proprietors as to the legality of their proceedings. Accord- 
ly, a warrant to Messrs. Townsend, Brazier, Hicks, Dillaway, and 



244 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



Lane, under the seal of 'James Sullivan, justice of the peace, 
throughout the commonwealth,' was obtained, and a meeting call- 
ed under the warrant, March 1st, 1792, which is the first com- 
mencement of a regular record of the proprietors' meetings. At 
this meeting it was voted to give Mr. Murray £4 per week ' until 
further orders.' — April 5th, 1792. It was Voted, to enlarge the meet- 
ing-house ; but no records are made for several years, excepting at 
the yearly meeting of the proprietors. This year Brother Richards 
supplied the desk in the absence of Brother Murray. In 1793, it 
was ' Voted, That Mr. Murray's salary be £4 per week.' And, 
' Voted, That Mr. Richards' salary be £3 per week.' This year al- 
so, a regular sexton was chosen. 

On Wednesday, Oct. 24th, 1793, Brother Murray was solemnly 
installed ' Pastor and Teacher of the First Universalist Church and 
congregation,' by deacon Oliver W. Lane. April, 1794, Mr. Mur- 
ray's salary was raised to £5. And in 1795, 1 Voted, That Mr. Mur- 
say's salary the present year be 22 dollars each sabbath.' In 1796, 
a regular tax on pews was laid, to defray the expenses of the so- 
ciety. No important event took place in the society until 1806, 
in which year they were incorporated by an act of the legislature. 
In 1810, Brother Mitchell was installed colleague with Brother Mur- 
ray, and in 1811 the connexion was dissolved. In 1812, the socie- 
ty voted to give brother P. Dean a call, and in 1813 he was install- 
ed junior pastor. In 1815, Sept. 3d, brother John Murray departed 
this life, to dwell with Christ. In 1323, the connexion with Mr. 
Dean was dissolved, and the desk was supplied by Brother Win- 
chester and Adin Ballou, until the call and settlement of brother 
Sebastian Streeter, which took place in 1824. — From this society in 
less than half a century, have emanated six societies, who have 
erected for themselves places of worship, in this city and vicinity, 
all of which are as fully attended, if not more so, than any other 
places of worship. 

That God would thus prosper his church throughout the habita- 
ble globe, is the earnest prayer of your humble servant, 

Thomas Kettell, Pro. Clerk. 

Boston, Sept. 7th, 1830. 

P. S. Since writing the above, brother Hicks handed me some 
old papers, among which I find the following scrap : ' March 6th, 
1791. The christian church commonly called Universalist, cele- 
brated the Lord's supper for the first time; the number of twenty 
brethren and nine sisters. It was celebrated after the afternoon 
exercises, when Mr. Murray had entertained us through the day 
from Isaiah xxxv., four first verses. The collection was for procur- 
ing the elements, and the overplus to furnish the furniture of the 
table after the bread and wine ; for there remains in the hands of 
Deacon Lane 8s. Id.' 

Exact copy, verbatim. T. K. 



APPENDIX. 



245 



Note D. 

Concerning the relative History and Sentiments of Murray and 
Winchester. 

John Murray and E Hi an an Winchester were both extraordinary 
men — they were men of uncommon talents — they were the founders 
of a sect of Christians; and as long as their usefulness continued, 
they were the two principal preachers in that sect. There was 
about ten years difference in their ages, Mr. Murray being the eld- 
er. He came into this country about 1770, aged thirty years ; Mr. 
Winchester was converted to Universalism in 1780, at the same age. 
Under these circumstances it becomes a very interesting inquiry, 
what were the feelings of these men towards each other? It is a 
fact which will be distinctly shown, that their systems of doctrine 
were decidedly different. Mr. Murray, before his conversion to 
TJniversalism, was a strong Calvinist, holding with great pertinaci- 
ty, the peculiar doctrine of atonement as held by that class of Chris- 
tians. Salvation, in his view, for the elect, was altogether the effect 
of the grace of Christ, who had died the just for the unjust, and sat- 
isfied the demands of the divine law. He retained these principles 
in becoming a Universalis!:. Reading Relly's Union he found that 
all mankind were united to Christ in a mystical manner, as their 
head ; and that by virtue of this union his sufferings and death 
were ours, and were the same as to their effect as though every in- 
dividual had suffered personally in the same manner. He did not 
hold, while a Calvinist, that the elect were to be damned for their 
sins, but because God, in the inscrutable purposes of his grace, saw 
fit to pass by them, and ordain them to dishonor and wrath to the 
praise of his vindictive justice. In becoming a Universalist he 
came to consider all men in the same view in • which he had re- 
garded the . elect, except so far as that some of them remained 
through life, and until the day of judgment, ignorant of the grace of 
God, and the salvation he had provided for them. Mr. Winchester, 
on the contrary, had always believed, that wicked men would be 
damned forever, not because no atonement had been made for them, 
but on account of their iniquities. His conversion then, to Univer- 
salism, unlike Mr. Murray's, did not consist in being brought to be- 
lieve that all the sins of every man had been visited upon Christ, 
but in shortening the term of the sinner's punishment for his own 
sins. Thus it will be seen their systems were widely different, but 
they were both Universalists. The salvation of all mankind was 
the distinguishing doctrine of both, and they were both considered 
as belonging to the same denomination of Christians. Like White- 
field and Wesley, they were contemporaries, and leaders. The 
world knows that between Whitefield and Wesley there was no 
fellowship nor christian feeling. They furnished a sad example of 
the melancholy fact that two great men, leaders in the same sect, 



246 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



can rarely live at peace. It becomes the faithful historian of the 
Universalist denomination to look at Murray and Winchester with 
this fact in view, and to show these two eminent individuals to the 
public precisely as they stood in their intercourse with each other. 

Elhanan Winchester avowed himself a convert to the doctrine 
of Universalism, in the month of October, 1780, in the city of Phil- 
adelphia. At this time Mr. Murray resided in Gloucester, Mass. 
and had never met Mr. Winchester, and it may be had not heard of 
him. The arguments touching the scriptures which are found in a 
work entitled the ' Everlasting Gospel,' written originally in Ger- 
man by Paul Siegvolk, an edition of which had been published in 
Pennsylvania in 1763, had had a great influence on Mr. Winches- 
ter's mind. He subsequently read ' Stonehouse on Universal Resti- 
tution,' and these two works had a great influence in fixing the pe- 
culiar form of his opinions. They are both profuse in their eluci- 
dations of the sense of the scriptures, as understood by their au- 
thors. 

Mr. Winchester's conversion made no small noise throughout the 
United States. It drew public attention to him, and his pulpit tal- 
ents being of a high order, his popularity rather increased than dimin- 
ished after his conversion. Mr, Murray expressed his feelings about 
this time, in the following words: ' My wish for a union of senti- 
ment among those, especially teachers, who advocate the pure doc- 
trines of God our Saviour, is a predominating wish. I have been 
accused of assuming the dictator, but the truth is, it would give me 
inexpressible satisfaction to find, in every town on the continent, a 
preacher infinitely superior to myself, both for matter and manner. 
I do not think I should be tortured by envy. God all-gracious, in- 
crease the number of faithful, well-instructed laborers, who may ad- 
minister the truth in righteouness.' — (Letters and Sketches, ii. 111.) 
Writing to Mr. Winchester he says, 'Many months have elapsed 
since public fame brought to my ears the soul-reviving intelligence, 
that a certain gentleman who had breathed forth the spirit of Saul 
of Tarsus, was now like the apostle Paul preaching that faith which 
before he persecuted, boldly affirming that in the way the worship- 
pers of Antichrist call heresy, so worshipped he the God of his fa- 
thers. When I heard this report I felt, I believe, much as people in 
general do when they hear the gospel. I thought it was too good to 
be true. ***** Sir, I felicitate you on the divine discoveries you 
have made. Go on, then, thou highly favored of the Lord. I bid 
thee God speed. Go on, and preach Jesus and the resurrection. 
Cry aloud, spare not ; tell professors their trangressions ; tell church- 
men their sins ; and show them that they on whom the tower of 
Siloain fell, were not sinners worse than they ; tell them that their 
works are evil. They will hate you for this ; but remember him who 
hath said, they hated me before they hated you ; and if they have 
done these things in the green tree, what shall they not do in the 
dry ? '—(Letters, &c. ii. 287, 288.) His introduction to Mr. Win- 
chester and first acquaintance with him, are thus described on Mr. 



APPENDIX. 



24? 



Murray's journal : * I have a prospect of being introduced to a 
clergyman of great eminence in the religious world. He was, I am 
told, a zealous and most inveterate persecutor of those who profess 
to believe in the doctrines of the gospel ; and was diligently employ- 
ed in searching the sacred records, to qualify himself to enter the 
lists as a disputant, should chance ever throw me in his way ; but 
being a man of great integrity, and remarkable for candor, much to 
the astonishment of his clerical brethren, his investigation made 
him a Universalist of the Chauncey School. Yet this shade of 
difference I conceived would operate as an effectual bar to his in- 
tercourse, or religious communion with me. However, I have, as 
I said, some reason to expect an interview with this same Mr. 
Winchester ; and my expectation originates in a conversation, of 
which, considering the event it may produce, I think proper to pre- 
serve the following minutes. 

****** 

G. Have you ever seen Mr. Winchester ? 
M. No, sir. 

G. I attend on his ministry, sir ; and but that he is too ill to go 
abroad, I am persuaded he would have waited upon you. 

M. I am told Mr. W. is ill, sir, and I very much regret his indis- 
position. 1 will thank you to present him my respectful compli- 
ments. 

G. That I will, sir, with a vast deal of pleasure. I shall be very 
happy indeed, sir, to carry such a message from you to him, 

M. Well, sir, I will make you more happy still. I will pr ay you 
to assure Mr. W. of my heart's best affection, not as a comp liment, 
but with such unfeigned sincerity, as one servant of the Rec leemer 
ought to cherish toward another. 

G. Well, sir, I am exceedingly pleased to be the bearer of such 
a message. 

To this Mr. Murray adds, * And thus I presume the way is open- 
ed for my introduction to this zealous, benevolent, and mo, st un- 
common man.' 

Again, says Mr. Murray, ' I dined yesterday, agreeably to j prom- 
ise ; many gentlemen were present, but, by the life of Pharaoh, , they 
were all spies. However, I treated them as spies in genen il are 
treated, when they are not hanged. I gave them something to 1 car- 
ry away with them. 

' My message has been delivered to Mr. Winchester, with w hich 
he expressed himself exceedingly pleased. He would have met 
the party collected, had he been able ; and he expressed a str ong 
desire to see and converse with me. If requested, I shall certai nly 
visit him.' * * * * 

1 1 have been, by invitation, to visit Mr. Winchester; he see ms 
tottering on the verge of another world. I have been edified by his 
remarks ; and although I am not united with him in sentiment in 
every particular, yet we join issue in one glorious and fundamenv tal 
truth, the final restoration of the whole posterity of Adam, and t on 



248 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



this ground I hail him as my friend and brother. Our interview 
has been extremely affecting ; he clasped me with ardor to his bo- 
som, and dropped such tears as friends are wont to shed, upon 
meeting each other after a long and painful separation. I antici- 
pate both pleasure and profit from associating with this gentle- 
man:— Letters, fyc. i. 342—345. 

His feelings towards Mr. Winchester are manifested in the fol- 
lowing" passage : 

Pray, sir, said an inquirer to me yesterday, pray sir, did you 

ever hear Mr. W preach ? 

Murray. No, sir. 

Inquirer. 1 understand he is turned quite about. 
M. Yes, sir. 

Inq. He has frequently preached in this place. 
M. So I am told. 

Inq. He was a very violent adversary to the truth. 
M. So I have heard. 

Inq. But he has outstripped you now, for he preaches the sal- 
vation of Devils, as well as men. 
M. So I understand. 

Inq. But, is there not as much danger in going beyond, as in 
coming short, of divine revelation? 

M. I rather think not, sir. Truth, and nothing but truth, is, no 
doubt, greatly to be desired. Yet, it appears to me, there is more 
to be said in favor of him, who views the mercy of God as bound- 
less, and thus, as a consequence, embraceth every intelligent 
being; I say, such a person deserves more credit, than that 
individual, whose narrow soul, wholly unacquainted with the 
immensity of divine love, limits the Holy One of Israel, to a small 
number of the human race. Yet, sir, I confess to you, that as the 
Redeemer passed by the nature of angels, and took not upon him 
their character, but the nature and character of humanity, I am 
willing to pass them by also ; I conceive I am not called to preach 
to the fallen angels, nor do I aim at being wise above what is 
written. 

fnq. But Mr. W — — insists upon the restitution of all things ; 
is not the restitution of all things a scripture doctrine ? Surely, 
what is written in scripture, is a scripture doctrine. 

M. The restitution of all things is undoubtedly a scripture doc- 
trine, and I am far from objecting to the will of God, if he should 
choose to make the crooked straight, as well as the rough places 
smooth. Yet, as I said, I do not conceive J am sent to preach to 
Devils. One thing, however, I know ; that if God should show 
favor to the deceiver, there can be no doubt of his showing favor 
to the deceived; and although the scriptures may not, in my view, 
appear to teach the doctrine of salvation, to fallen, angelic sinners, 
yet, another servant of my great Master, under the direction of the 
same spirit, may be permitted to fathom more deeply those waters 
of the sanctuary. 



APPENDIX. 



249 



Inq. Why, I think, you must allow that all things are possible 
with God. 

M. Surely; and I acknowledge it to be an incontrovertible 
fact, that we know not the extent of his power, or of his grace; 
and wherever I find a person preaching Christ Jesus, as the Saviour 
of the world, he shall have my heart, and my hand, nor will I 
quarrel with him, because he thinks too highly of the grace of our 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

Inq. Do you know if it be true that Mr. W is a preacher of 

purgatory ? 

M. I really do not know what are his views of an intermediate 
state, as I have an account of this particular only from his enemies. 
It is said of me, that I take a purgatory into my calculations ; but 
my ideas are wholly confined to the baptism of Christ, where our 
God as a consuming fire hath purified the whole of his inheritance ; 
a knowledge of this fact, purgeth the conscience of the individual 
who receiveth it from dead works, to serve the living God ; and 
when this knowledge is universally communicated, then shall the 
righteous shine forth, as the sun, in the kingdom of the Father. 

The views of Mr. W are, perhaps, similar to mine ; at any 

rate, there are, from the same spirit, diversity of gifts: and it is 
proper that we should cherish toward each other a spirit of 
liberality.'— Letters, fyc. i. 186, 187. 

Writing to an English friend some years after this, Mr. Murray 
says, ' I believe Mr. W. to be a very sincere man, and a very warm- 
hearted Christian. I think him in an error — I think his plan can- 
not be supported upon christian principles ; but he believes it can. 
I have labored to convince him of his error, well persuaded that 
he would abandon any principle which he could be convinced was 
wrong. But when I hear our divine Master upbraiding his imme- 
diate disciples, with their hardness of heart and unbelief, and yet 
loving them with an everlasting love ; when I learn that he hath 
compassion on the ignorant, and upon those who are out of the 
way, I am ashamed of the reserves which I experience toward 
those who differ from me in sentiment.' — Letters, £fc. ii, 2b'4. 

Mr. Murray had a heart-feit affection for Rev. Noah Parker, of 
Portsmouth, N. H. His epistles to this individual were numerous ; 
and he poured into them the undisguised feelings of his heart. 
* Since I last wrote to you,' says he, 'I have seen and conversed 
with the Rev. Mr. Winchester. I admire him much ; his conduct 
and expressions evince one of the best hearts I have known. I 
haTe conceived a very strong affection for him, and, to the confu- 
sion of the enemies of the gospel of God our Saviour, a very large 
number of respectable hearers have seen him and your friend en- 
ter the pulpit together. Mr. W. sang, and addressed the throne of 
graee, and, by his request, 1 preached. A greater part of his con- 
gregation are enemies to me, because, in their judgment, I do not 
sufficiently expatiate upon inward holiness ; for, although they call 
23 



250 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



themselves Universalists, yet Christ is not sufficient for them ; but 
I have preached to their preacher in private, and I have the satis- 
faction to pronounce, that he receives the grace of God with avidi- 
ty.'— Letters, fyc. ii. 112, 113. 

The above will suffice to show the feeling which Mr. Murray 
desired to cherish towards the eminent individual whom we have 
here associated with him. It must not be supposed, however, that 
Mr. Murray felt any favor for the peculiar opinions of Mr. Win- 
chester ; on the contrary it is indisputable that he regarded them 
with no small degree of aversion. They both agreed in one great 
truth, viz. that the human race shall at last all be saved, but they 
arrived at this conclusion from very different premises. Their 
widest difference was on the subject of punishment. Mr. Murray's 
hope of salvation for the world rested on the fact, not that man 
would be punished to his full deserts and then released, but that 
God was in Christ, the divine in the human nature, reconciling the 
world unto himself: that the iniquities of all the stray sheep were 
laid upon the good Shepherd, and he, as the just one, bore the sins 
of the world, that he might take them away, and that God might 
with propriety say, ' Behold 1 see no spot in thee.' This guiltless 
Lamb suffered the death which is the wages of sin, that by his suf- 
fering he might eventually annihilate sin, so that those who are 
taught of God might see no more of the punishment as the effect 
than God does of sin as the cause : in fine, that ' there was no God 
but the Saviour, nor sin but what he bore in his own body on the 
cross, nor punishment but what he suffered when the chastisement 
of our peace was upon him.' — Letters, fyc. ii. 153. ' Depend upon 
it,' says Mr. Murray, (Ibid. 30G) 'the spirit of God will never repre- 
sent any part of human nature in a deplorable state in consequence 
of their being sinners. Whenever the spirit of God teaches the 
children of men, he will assure them, that while they are yet sin- 
ners Christ died for them, and that if, while sinners, they were 
reconciled by his death, much more, being reconciled, we shall be 
saved by his life.' And in answer to an inquiry how God will 
recompense or reward the wicked, (Ibid. 306) he adds 'There are 
in the Bible but two characters denominated wicked ; the fallen 
angels, and fallen men. Nothing renders fallen men wicked, but 
sin or wickedness. But Jesus was manifested to destroy sin, and 
we have before seen, He is the Lamb of God who taketh away the 
sin of the world. 

' There are but two ways in the which the sin of the world can 
be taken away ; first, by Jesus Christ putting it away by the sacri- 
fice of himself, and thus representing the human nature in himself 
as an offering in a clean vessel, without spot, and blameless in 
love ; or, secondly, by his changing these vile bodies, that they may 
be fashioned like unto his glorious body, according to his mighty 
working, whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself 
But in each of these views, the reward is a gracious reward. 



APPENDIX. 



251 



8 The chaff, it is written, will be thrown into the fire ; but not a 
single grain of the wheat, that grew in the chaff; chaff can never 
be made wheat, nor wheat chaff. Tares never were good seed, 
nor never can be. Human nature was good when sown in the 
earth, but the enemy came and sowed his tares, and they will both 
grow tog-ether until the harvest ; but no longer. The harvest is the 
end of the world, when the seed sown by the enemy shall be sep- 
arated from the human nature, which was the seed sown by the 
Son of man ; and, consequent upon this separation, the people 
shall be all righteous ; Isaiah lx. 21, ' Thy people also shall be all 
righteous: they shall inherit the land forever, the branch of my 
planting, the work of my hands, that I may be glorified.' 

Take away all sin, and the people will be all righteous. Sin is 
of the devil ; it is the work of the devil ; it is the seed of the ser- 
pent. But the human nature was not the seed of the serpent. It 
was God sowed this seed, and it is God who will reap it; and when 
he has thoroughly purged his floor, he will gather it into his garner. 
Observe, it is God who will do this ; it is God who will thoroughly 
purge his floor, fyc. fyc. 1 

These were clearly Mr. Murray's views concerning sin, and its 
punishment, and the method of salvation. The sentiments of Mr. 
Winchester, therefore, in regard to punishment, he could in no de- 
gree approve. 

* I have been conversing says he,' with a number of Mr. W — — 's 
hearers, and I find them eagerly expecting life eternal, consequent 
upon regeneration, their own inherent holiness, their own faith, 
their own works, &c. &c. 

' Future punishments too, and for sin, make a part of their creed; 
and indeed, the only existing difference between them and that re- 
ligious world, from which they have separated themselves, consists 
in a persuasion that the wicked may, and will, when cast into 
prison, pay by their own sufferings the uttermost farthing of their 
own debts, and that then they will of course be liberated.' — Letters^ 
£c. i. 348, 349. 

He remarks in another place: 'I do not know now a single 
preacher in this country, if I except Rev. John Tyler, of Connecti- 
cut, who is with me in sentiment respecting gospel truth, although 
there are many private Christians who are happy in the belief of 
those glad tidings, which the angels delighted to proclaim. There 
are, as I informed you in my last, who preach another gospel, who 
assure us that all mankind will finally, through their own doings 
and sufferings, enter into life, forasmuch as God willeth that all 
men should be saved, and come unto the knowledge of the 
truth. Of this number is Mr. W., of whom I have spoken in for- 
mer letters, and who is now in England. He is a zealous 
man, and an animated preacher. We can rarely discover any 
difference between him and the Methodists, except where they 
speak of the never-ending torments of the wicked. — Here he differs 
from them, for be supposes the wicked will be tormented only a 
few thousand years, or ages, or millions of years, according to the 



252 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



magnitude of their transgressions, until being brought to love and 
serve God acceptably, they will be forever happy with the Lord.' 
—Letters, fyc. ii. 277. 

And he also remarks to a friend, much to the same purpose, 
'You inform me you have been told I am a Universalist ; upon 
Mr. W.'s plan I am not. Mr. W. preaches the restitution of devils ; 
I am not sent to preach to devils. Mr. W. considers weak, ruined 
individuals as paying their own debts; yea, to the uttermost far- 
thing. I see no strength but in Christ Jesus ; be you assured, 
therefore, I am not of Mr. W.'s school. I receive the doctrine of the 
general restitution, as did the Apostle Peter, according to the word 
of the Lord spoken by the mouth of all God's holy prophets, ever 
since the world began. If your views of the great redemption be 
not as mine, I judge you not, I censure you not, I do not love you 
the less.'— Ibid. ii. 263. 

Again: 'A second class of Universalists insist on purgatorial 
satisfaction, according to which, every man must finally become his 
own Saviour; for, if I must suffer as much in my own person, 
as will satisfy divine justice, how is, or how can Jesus Christ 
be my Saviour ? 

' If this purgatorial doctrine be true, the ministry of reconciliation, 
committed to the apostles, must be false ; to wit, God was in 
Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing unto ihem 
their trespasses. In fact, I know no description of people farther 
from Christianity, true Christianity, than such Universalians. O, 
my friend, how exceeding difficult it is to keep in the narrow way ! 
How much like a broken bow, is the human heart! How very 
ready to start aside! As I descend into the vale of life, these dis- 
coveries give me a taste of sorrow, and I anticipate a harvest of 
evil.'— Ibid. ii. 130. 

Mr. Murray has given his views, perhaps, more fully on this sub- 
ject in his 'Hints relative to forming a Christian church,' publish- 
ed in 1791, than in any other place. He was describing the differ- 
ent kinds of Universalists. 

'There are a class of Universalists more respectable than 
the former, who insist, that although all mankind will finally be 
saved, they have much to perform or to suffer, in order to satisfy 
divine justice before this event can take place. All, say these 
Universalists, who have not a. perfection of holiness in themselves 
in the present state, all who are not in this distempered state, pure 
in heart, must, before they can see God in glory, pass through a 
purgatorial fire, and there suffer some thousands of years, until 
they have paid the utmost farthing of the debt they owed the just 
God, according as the account stands in the book of the law ; but 
when they have suffered, the just for ( the unjust, then they shall 
come forth with pure hearts filled with fervent affection to him, 
who graciously condescended to let them pay their own debt. 
These are called Universalists, and indeed they are Universalists in 
the strictest sense of the word, for as they do not conceive it is the 



APPENDIX. 



253 



blood of Jesus, which cleanseth from all sin, so they imagine, 
that the same mode of procedure, which is adopted for the salva- 
tion of all men, will equally apply to fallen angels, and they there- 
fore believe in the salvation of devils. That our Saviour passed 
by the nature of angels, and took upon him the seed of Abraham, 
makes, in the view of these Universalists, no difference ; for as 
mankind must after all suffer for their own sins, devils can do the 
same, and therefore be saved in the same way. What God will 
do with the fallen angels, after they are sent into the fire prepared 
for them, I know not. " Men are the books we ought to read ; the 
proper study of mankind is man." 

1 We go no farther in our inquiries than our own nature ; so far 
these Universalists accompany us ; but leave us here, and we are 
better pleased to find them advocates for salvation in any way. 
than if they were laboring to prove the eternal ruin of the greater 
part of God's offspring. Yet we conceive these sectarians cannot, 
with any degree of propriety, be called Universalists on apostolic 
principles 5 nor does it appear, that they have any idea of being 
saved by or in the Lokd with an everlasting, or with any salvation. 
It is difficult to know what they will have to thank God for, at 
last, they having paid their own debt, and satisfied divine justice in 
their own persons. I wonder not, that such Universalists as these 
are opposed, and with success by the partialists. Such universal- 
ists have nothing to do with the ministry of reconciliation : the 
doctrines of the atonement and acceptance in the beloved is out of 
their plan; such doctrines are considered by them as unfriendly to 
holiness; such Universalists as these, are as far from the doctrines 
of the gospel on one side, as their opponents are on the other. 
These are Pharisaical Universalists, Universalists who are willing 
to justify themselves ; and such Universalism as this will be much 
more acceptable to an adulterous generation, than the Universal- 
ism found in the ministry of reconciliation ; to wit, that God ivas 
in Christ reconciling the world unto himself \ not imputing their tres- 
passes unto them. We are very much at a loss to account for the 
suffering of Christ at all on the plan adopted by these Universal- 
ists; he either suffered for the unjust, or he did not ; if he did not 
suffer for the unjust, he must have suffered very unjustly, inasmuch 
as he did not personally deserve sufferings, he in himself being holy, 
harmless, and uudefiled. If he did suffer for the unjust, he 
either satisfied divine justice, or he did not; if he did not, then his 
resurrection is not our justification, nor did he put away sin by the 
sacrifice of himself; then he cannot be the Saviour of the world, 
or of any individual in the world ; nor can God be just, if he justi- 
fies the ungodly, and, of course, with respect to sinners, as their 
Saviour, he died in vain. 

'If he did satisfy divine justice, and make reconciliation for 
iniquity, then this man is our peace, and we have the atonement, 
and God is well pleased for his righteousness' sake; then be hath 
redeemed us from the curse of the law, and is just, although a 
22* 



254 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



Saviour. The inconsistent plan, adopted by this class of Univer- 
salists, is supported like all others of the same complexion by false 
views of some divine passages in the book of God. When they 
considered the tares and the goats as wicked men, sent into ever- 
lasting fire to do what Jesus Christ, by the grace of God, came to 
do, and which, by a single word, he can and will show them he 
hath done; they must of course continue in this everlasting fire, 
until the business be done, until complete satisfaction be made.' — 
Letters, fyc. hi. 35S, 359. 

The question, may here very properly be put, what were Mr. 
Murray's own views in regard to the future condition of those who 
died in unbelief or ignorance of the great salvation? Did he 
believe that they would be ushered immediately into the presence 
of God at death? He did not. Objecting to the sentiments of 
those who held 'that all mankind will be on a level in the article 
of death,' he maintained that if Jesus having abolished death was 
sufficient to put all upon a level in death, it was sufficient to put 
all on a level in life also, which certainly it did not do. God, it is 
true, hath ransomed all men ; but none of the ransomed can be 
saved from misery until made acquainted with God as their 
Saviour. ' He who dies in unbelief,' says he, 'lies down in sorrow, 
and will rise to the resurrection of damnation, or, more properly, 
condemnation. Blessed are the people who know the joyful 
sound ; it is they, and they only, that walk in the light of God's 
countenance. If this was not the case, where would be the neces- 
sity of preaching the gospel at all ? If, in the article of death, 
every one for whom Christ died were made acquainted with him, 
and consequently, with the things that made for their peace, why 
trouble mankind, in life, about these matters ? Why go forth as 
sheep among wolves, suffering everything that the malice of blind 
zeal can inflict, in order to turn men from darkness to light, if the 
period to which we are all hastening, will effectually open the eyes 
of the understanding? If death destroys all distinctions, would it 
not be well to say, " Let us eat, drink, and be merry ; for to-mor- 
row we die ? " " We are commanded to preach the gospel, and 
this is a sufficient reason why we should preach the gospel." Very 
true ; but why are we commanded to preach the gospel ? Is it 
not, that faith may come by hearing, and that, living by faith on 
the Son of God, we may finish our course with joy ? But, if every 
one of the ransomed race are to be equally happy in death, then, 
although they did not live by faith, they, nevertheless, finish their 
course with joy, nor shall any individual arise to the resurrection 
of condemnation. This may be consolatory, but it is not scriptural. 
These sectarians, aware of this error, support it by another, and, 
therefore, deny a future judgment. 

* Blessed, saith the the Holy Spirit, are the dead, who die in the 
Lord : they rest from their labors. But if all are alike in death, it 
may be said, Blessed are the dead, who die in their sin, that is, in 
unbelief, for they rest from their labors ; but this cannot be, since it 



APPENDIX. 



255 



Is only those, who believing the word of the gospel, put on the Lord 
Jesus, and having received him as their righteousness, sanctifica- 
tion, and redemption, so walk in him, that they can be said to die 
in him. These, and these only, have part in the first resurrection, 
on whom the second death can have no power. These, in the 
resurrection, shall meet their Saviour with transport; they shall 
rise to the resurrection of salvation ; they shall come to Zion with 
songs ; they shall rejoice, while the many who are, nevertheless, 
redeemed, yet unacquainted with the things which make for their 
peace, and who rise in the second resurrection, shall be filled with 
anguish. It is from these unhappy, despairing beings, that the 
Lord God will wipe away all tears; it is from these benighted 
beings, that the hand of divine benignity shall take away the veil. 
Those who live and die in faith, shall have no tears to wipe away, 
no veil to remove. Tears, weeping, and wailing, will continue 
as long as unbelief, the procuring cause shall remain. These 
evils will be done away together, not in the article of death, but in 
the day of the Lord, when every eye shall see, and every tongue 
shall confess to the glory of the Father.' — Letters, &fc. iii. 354, 355. 

The ' day of the Lord ' here spoken of was what Mr. Murray re- 
garded as the day of judgment, at which time all misery and sor- 
rowing and sighing shall cease. It was not, as Mr. Winchester be- 
lieved, a day in which men would be sentenced to suffer the de- 
served punishment of their sins, but it was the great day op 
universal jubilee, in which all unbelievers would be brought to 
the knowledge of the gospel, and seeing their names written in the 
book of life, would enter into the full fruition of eternal glory. 
Then would take place the separation of the sheep from the goats. 
The sheep are all those for whom the good Shepherd laid down his 
life — -whose sins he bore, to wit, all mankind ; for the Lord laid on 
him the iniquities of us all. The goats represent those things from 
which it is necessary to separate mankind, the sheep, — that is, the 
body of sin and death, in which Paul groaned, being burthened, 
and the fallen angels. Thus it will be said, on that great and glo- 
rious day of judgment, ' Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting 
fire, prepared [not for mankind] but for the devil and his angels. 
Thus men shall be entirely delivered, every one of them, and joy 
shall take possession of every heart. These views will be found 
fully advanced in the extracts which follow, made promiscuously 
from his works. 

' The believer is, in death, peculiarly happy ; he is then made per- 
fect in holiness, and doth immediately pass into glory. He leaves 
every thing distressing behind, and enters into the glory of the 
Lord. Thus holy and thus blessed, he hath part in the first resur- 
rection. The second death hath no power over him. He cometh 
not to the judgment; it is the world that will be judged. These 
having judged themselves, shall not be judged. These are not of 
the world, these were chosen out of the world. These rise to the 



256 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



resurrection of life; and instead of being judged, we are informed 
by an Apostle, that they shall judge angels. 

' The unbeliever is a wretched slave, first to the devil, secondly 
to sin, and thirdly to fear. Fear, we know, hath torment; — he is 
like the prodigal feeding on husks. Has he hope ? It is the hope 
of the hypocrite, which will make him ashamed ; it will be as the 
giving up of the ghost. 

1 The unbeliever is miserable in life and in death, not" crediting 
the gospel of God, our Saviour, which declareth that Jesus died for 
him ; death appeareth to him. no shadow, it approacheth as a most 
formidable substance ; it is the king of terrors. Not having put on the 
Lord Jesus, the unbeliever dies in his sins ; and where Christ is, 
where is fulsess of joy, he cannot come : when he dies he lies down 
in sorrow, he leaves all his happiness behind him. Death and the 
grave, darkness and hell, receive him; and when the trumpet, des- 
tined to raise the dead, shall be sounded, he will rise to the resur- 
rection of damnation or condemnation : he will call upon the rocks 
and mountains to fall upon him, to hide him from the wrath of the 
Lamb. The books will be opened ; he will be judged out of the 
things written in the book ; he will be condemned or damned, which 
words are synonymous. Every man will be rewarded according 
to his works. To him who, by patient continuance in well doing, 
did the will of God, glory and honor; to him who was disobedient, 
tribulation and anguish. To the Jew first, and also to the Gentile- 

* For the Lord shall be revealed from heaven in flaming fire, 
taking vengeance on them who know not God, and who obey not 
the gospel, who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from 
the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power. Then 
shall he say, Bring forth these men who would not that 1 should 
reign over them, and slay them before me. Then shall a sword 
proceed from the mouth of him that sitteth on the white horse, with 
which he shall slay the nations. They shall be slain as Paul was 
slain when the commandment slew him, and he died ; every 
mouth shall be stopped, all the world shall be guilty before God, 
confessedly guilty. 

* But, blessed be God, another book shall then be opened, and 
whosoever is found written in this book, shall be saved from the 
power of the adversary. But who are written in this book ? 

' In thy book, saith the spirit, all my members are written, and 
the aggregate of the human family, make up the members of 
Christ's body. The Redeemer will then separate his redeemed, 
as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats; placing the fallen 
angels, who have still stimulated the race of Adam to every evil, 
and prevented them from every good — placing these fallen angels, 
whose names are not written in the Lamb's book of life, upon his 
left hand, while those who have been distressed and harassed by 
their deceptions, thus separated from every evil, shall be placed on 
the right hand.— Letters, ^c. ii. 222, 223. 



APPENDIX. 



257 



Again, in a letter to a friend, ' Yes, all who are in their graves 
shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and they who hear shall 
live. Yes, the prince of this world is judged, and the angels who 
kept not their first estate are reserved unto the judgment of the 
great day. The saints, the chosen few, the elect, shall be in the 
judgment seat, judging the world. Know ye not that we shall judge 
angels ? said an apostle. 

' The dead in Christ shall rise first. There are, among the chil- 
dren of men but two characters ; such who, according to the direc- 
tion of the Spirit, put on the Lord Jesus, and having lived by faith 
in him, finished their course with joy, and laying down in peace, 
rise to the resurrection of salvation ; having judged themselves, 
they shall not be judged according to the word of the Redeemer, 
"judge yourselves, and you shall not be judged." These are the 
first fruits, the dead in Christ, who shall first rise. 

' The second description includes those who have not believed 
because they have not known. They never conceived that Jesus 
died for their sins, and arose again for their justification ; — they lay 
down with a damning consciousness of sin, and of course they must 
rise to the resurrection of damnation. Damnation, so the transla- 
tors will have it ; they are extremely fond of this phrase ; yet they 
know there is no such phrase in the New Testament ; but they 
think it sounds well, more terrific. Sir, you know the word thus 
rendered, should be condemnation ; they shall rise to the resurrec- 
tion of condemnation ; and, while continuing in ignorance and un- 
belief, they shall imagine the Lamb is possessed of wrath, and un- 
der this apprehension, we repeat, they will call upon the mountains 
to fall upon them. 

' But, as I before observed, another book will be opened, the book 
of life ; and the face of the covering will be taken from all people, 
and the veil from all nations, and every eye shall see, and every 
tongue confess ; and e^ery creature in heaven, on earth, and under 
the earth, and in the sea, yea, all of them shall ascribe blessing, and 
glory, and honor, to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the 
Lamb, forever and ever. And there shall be no more sorrow, nor 
crying, nor pain ; all old things shall pass away, and all things shall 
become new. Then, indeed, shall the accuser of the brethren be 
cast out into his proper element, darkness ; then shall the tables be 
turned upon the adversary, and like Haman, he must himself sub- 
mit to the death he intended for Mordecai.' — Letters, fyc. ii. 
247, 248. 

Lastly, on this subject, take the following from the 1 Hints rela- 
tive to forming a Christian church.' 1 Yes, the books shall be open- 
ed, and the dwad, both small and great, shall be judged out of the 
things written in the books. Every mouth shall be stopped, and 
all the world become guilty before God ; and while conscious of 
guilt, but ignorant of a Saviour, and that the Saviour is the only 
wise God who \sjust even as a Saviour, they shall call upon the 
rocks and mountains to fall upon them, that they may, beneath the 



258 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



covert of the falling mountains, be hidden from the wrath of the 
Lamb. But in this judgment, the Judge is the Saviour. Here all 
judgment is committed unto Jesus, because he is the Son of man, 
the Son of the offending, suffering, affrighted nature. In that 
future day, upon which God hath appointed the judgment, it is the 
Prince and the Saviour who is appointed to judge the world in 
righteousness, even that man whom the divine Nature ordained. 
Here, instead of head and members being judged together by the 
head of Christ, the divine Nature, the members are considered, in 
their distinct characters, as good and evil, or believer and unbeliev- 
er, as children of light or children of darkness, and judged by their 
own head, for the head of every man is Christ. 

'Again — The business of this judgment may be considered, in 
some sort, different from the former. That was to suffer the 
wages of sin ; this, after suffering the consequence of unbelief, 
which is the torment of fear, to stop every mouth, that the Lord 
alone may be exalted, and to bring every one into a state of willing 
obedience unto the gospel. In the former judgment, sin was put 
away from the lost nature, by the death or sacrifice of the Saviour 
as the second Adam, so that God may behold the once lost and 
polluted nature, as saved and pure in him. The last judgment is 
to bring each member into the same state in themselves. Once 
more — as in the former judgment, the prince of this world, who also 
is called the God of this world, was cast out, in the last judgment the 
whole of the angelic nature, who fell from their first habitation, 
and who are reserved in chains of darkness unto the judgment of 
this great day, will, in the character of goats placed on the left 
hand of the Shepherd of the sheep, be judged, and sent, as accurs- 
ed, into the fire prepared for them. Then shall that wicked be 
revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the breath of his 
mouth, and destroy by the brightness of his coming.' — Letters, $*c. 
iii. 352, 353. 

Mr. Murray and Mr. Winchester, as is stated in the Biography, 
met at the formation of the General Convention of Universalists 
at Oxford, Mass. in 1785 . It was an important occasion. Not only 
were the two great preachers of the order present, but a form was 
then about to be given to it, a judicatory was about, to be establish- 
ed, and Mr. Murray felt earnestly solicitous that the new association 
might be impressed in its infancy, and reared up by the influence 
of the doctrines so dear to his heart, and for which he had so long 
suffered and labored. Mr. Winchester preached first. His mild, 
flowing and eloquent style is said to have captivated the audience. 
His subject was 'the doctrine of the gospel? from Galatians i. 8. 
' But though we, or an angel from heaven preach any other gospel un- 
to you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accurs- 
ed? At the desire of Mr. Winchester, Mr. Murray concluded the 
subject. We regret that we cannot here present an epitome of Mr. 
Winchester's discourse ; but it was never written. Mr. Murray has 
left a broken account of his, which is subjoined. 



APPENDIX. 



259 



SERMON 

DELIVERED BEFORE THE FIRST MEETING OF THE GENERAL CONVEN 
TION OF UNIVERSALIS, CONVENED AT OXFORD, MASS. 
SEPTEMBER, 1785. 

' Our beloved friend, and very dear brother, having given you a 
clear view of the gospel, has referred to me the consideration of the 
apostolic affirmation — " But though we, or an angel from heaven 
preach unto you any other gospel, than that which we have preached 
unto you, let him be accursed.'''' Suppose, for example, we who have 
now preached that you are redeemed from the curse of the law, in 
consequence of Jesus being made a curse for you ; that you who, 
being unrighteous, could in such a character have no inheritance in 
that kingdom, which the unrighteous cannot inherit, are now heirs, 
joint heirs with Christ, according to promise, in the fulfilment of 
that prophecy, ' The name whereby he shall be called is the Lord our 
righteousness that we who have sinned, and on whom, as sin- 
ners, the sentence had passed — ' The soul that sinneth shall die ; ' 
shall live and not die, not in consequence of making void the law, 
but in consequence of Jesus dying for us, and that in such a way, 
that his death was, in the eye of infinite truth and justice, consid- 
ered our death; so that constrained by the love of God, we judge 
that if one died for all, then all are dead ; and that the just, thus 
dying for the unjust, was to bring them to God, and that being thus 
brought to God, he hath accepted us in the Beloved ; and that we 
are complete in him ; and that the just God, who hath accepted us 
in our head, will in no wise cast us out ; and that he hath appoint- 
ed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness not 
by themselves; the apostle would not dare to judge himself by 
himself, but by that man whom he hath ordained, not only to be 
the judge of quick and dead, but also to be a Prince and a Sav- 
iour; to give repentance to the impenitent, and remission of sins 
to the offender. That your transgressions are blotted out, and your 
iniquities pardoned. That when we all like sheep had gone astray, 
every one to his own way, the Lord laid upon the Redeemer the 
iniquities of us all, and that having suffered for our sins, and put 
them away by the sacrifice of himself, God is now a reconciled God, 
not imputing unto the world their trespasses ; having made the hu- 
manity of Christ sin for us, that we may be made the righteousness 
of God in him. 

* Suppose, I say, that we who have thus, by the grace of God, 
authorised by divine authority, preached this true, this everlasting 
gospel, should, through the mutability of our nature, and that dread- 
ful propensity in our evil hearts to turn aside as a broken bow, 
from the mark of the prize of our high calling in Christ Jesus — 
suppose we should preach unto you another gospel, assuring you 
that your own obedience to the righteous law must exempt you from 
the curse denounced against law-breakers, or you would never be 



260 



LIFE OF REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



exempted ; that you must be distinguished from the rest of man* 
kind, who are unrighteous, by a change wrought in yourselves, so 
that you may be so fully convinced you are not like other men, that 
you may be able in the presence of God, to thank him for his dis- 
criminating grace, or you never can have any le^al or just claim to 
an inheritance in the kingdom of God, and of Christ — that sinners 
not thus changed, and made righteous, must assuredly die the 
death, and the unjust assuredly suffer in their own persons, for 
their own sin?, betore they can be brought to God ; and that should 
they approach him previous to this change, he will assuredly cast 
them out into the fire prepared for the devil and his angels — For 
that although Jesus died for sinners, yet his death in the sight of 
infinite justice was not the death of the sinner, and that the sen- 
tence passed on the sinner is still in full force ; the soul that sin- 
neth shall die — That we are not accepted in the beloved, nor com- 
plete in him ; and that therefore the just God hath appointed a day 
in the which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that righ- 
teous law which condemns the offender to everlasting perdition, 
and sets the obedient free — That on that day the sinners of man- 
kind will find that their transgressions are not pardoned ; that their 
iniquities were not blotted out ; that they were not laid upon Jesus; 
or if they were, that he did not put them away ; that he performed 
no more than was performed by the sacrifices under the Mosaic 
dispensation ; putting them away and yet leaving the people still 
in guilt, and under condemnation ; and that, consequently, God is 
not, cannot be reconciled unto the world; nor ever will be until they 
are first reconciled unto him ; that he really does still impute unto 
them their trespasses; and that although it may in some sense be 
true that Jesus was made sin for them, yet we cannot K lhink that 
sinners, black with crimes in themselves, can be made the righteous- 
ness of God in him. 

' If, I say, we, or an angel from heaven, should preach a gospel 
so different from that already declared to you, let him be accursed. 
Let him be considered in the same point of view, with respect to 
the gospel, that the Jews considered the ignorant Gentiles with re- 
spect to the law — let those who know not the law be accursed. 

' But should it be asked how, with what propriety, can the preach- 
ing you thus describe, be termed gospel, since gospel is literally 
glad tidings, or good news? We answer. The apostle did not con- 
sider this testimony gospel ; his sentiments were the reverse of this 
testimony ; he only speaks of it as the first believers, who being 
zealous tor the law, spake of the soul-perverting doctrine they 
preached. They called their preaching gospel-preaching ; and for 
the purpose of making it appear in some sort consistent with the 
name, they declared unto the people glad tidings ; that in conse- 
quence of the descent of Jesus Christ upon this our globe, we may 
now be saved, and it is entirely our own fault if we be not ; that we 
have not the same law, in all its fulness to obey that the Jews had ; 
that many of the ceremonies are taken out of the way ; that God 



APPENDIX. 



261 



flow only requires us to keep his commandments, to do justice, to 
love mercy, and to walk humbly with God ; and should we, through 
the imbecility of our nature, err from the path of rectitude, w e be- 
ing able to appeal to God, that it was not willingly or by design, 
the Mediator will, in such circumstances, intercede for us ; and on 
our repentance and reformation, we shall be taken into favor. 
Thus, although the law be indeed broken, and your souls have 
sinned, yet to such favorites we bring glad tidings ; you shall not 
die, nor suffer the curse of a broken law. 

What although the unrighteous cannot inherit eternal life, yet 
behold we bring unto you glad tidings: you may be righteous if 
you will ; for Jesus came into the world to show you, by his bright 
example, what you must do if you would be righteous ; which but 
for his appearance you never could have know n ; and not only so, 
but if you will only see, and be in love with this divine pattern, and 
d o all in your power to imitate him, whenever you find yourself 
th rough human weakness, unable to attain to his likeness, he will, 
if you continually call upon him, help you ; nay, he will work in 
you to will and to do : behold therefore we bring you glad tidings; 
you will have all the reward and ccmmendaticn, as if you had by 
your own inherent strength, wrought out your own salvation. 

Thus, if by close attention to the rules laid down in the precepts 
of the law, and the example of Jesus Christ you attain to righteous- 
ness, you shall not be condemned with sinners ; but when God 
shall say to them, Depart ye cursed into everlasting fire, he shall 
say to you, Come ye blessed of my Father : while to the sinner be 
says, Thou wicked servant, thou shouldst have put my money to 
usury, he will say to you who have kept his commandments, Well 
done, thou good and iaithlul servant, enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord. 

But as thts does not seem glad tidings to every creature, we 
would say to the unjust, who must suffer for their sins, that their 
sufferings shall finally bring them to God ; that when they have 
suffered as much as the justice of God can demand, so that on 
scrutinizing the account, it will appear that the sinner has paid the 
uttermost farthing ; then they shall come forth from the deep dun- 
geon, where by the grace of Jesus Christ they have been enabled 
to suffer so much, and give glory to him, who by suffering so much 
in his own person, rendered it possible for them to obtain salvation 
by their own deeds and sufferings. 

Thus shall all finally be happy ; although not all precisely in the 
same way. Some shall attain endless felicity by obedience to the 
law, and others by suffering the pains and- penalties annexed to the 
breach of the law. What then becomes' of the finished redemption 
wrought out by the Redeemer of men ? Yet it is easy to prove 
that this testimony is gospel ; but it must be confessed that there is 
as much difference between the two gospels, as between heaven 
above and earth beneath ; and such who are under the influence of 
the spirit of this world, merely of the earth, earthy, will undoubt- 



262 



LIFE OP REV. JOHN MURRAY. 



edly prefer the latter gospel ; while such who are under the in- 
fluence of his spirit who says, 1 am from above ; my kingdom ia 
not of this world ; and who consequently see their treasure in 
heaven, and nothing which merits the name of durable riches and 
righteousness any where else; so that they can with truth say, 
when they ask whom have I in heaven but thee ? there is nothing 
on earth 1 desire beside thee. Persons of this description will give 
the preference to Paul's gospel ; and continuing under the influ- 
ence of that spirit which taketh of the things of Jesus, and showeth 
them unto the soul, they will assuredly follow the apostolic direc- 
tion in all things, delighting to imitate his example, and determin- 
ing to know nothing save Christ Jesus, and him crucified. ' God 
forbid,' they exclaim, ' God forbid that we should glory, save in the 
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified 
unto us, and we unto the world.' Yea, doubtless, and they count 
all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ 
Jesus their Lord, for whom they would gladly suffer the loss of all 
things. They desire, earnestly desire, to be found in the Redeem- 
er, not having their own righteousness which is of the law, but that 
which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of 
God by faith. They believe it to be life eternal to know God and 
Jesus Christ whom he hath sent. They listen to the voice of the 
Lord, who saith, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, nei^ 
ther let the mighty man glory in his might, nor the rich man in his 
riches. But let him that glorieth, glory in this, that he under- 
standeth and knoweth me ; that 1 am the Lord which exercise 
loving-kindness, judgment and righteousness in the earth ; for in 
these things I delight, saith the Lord. 

The believers of Paul's gospel, uniformly consider themselves as 
complete in Christ Jesus; they know that the Redeemer alone 
hath collected the materials ; that he alone will build the temple ; 
bringing forth the head-stone thereof with shoutings crying, * Grace, 
grace unto it. — Letters, %c. ii. 118 — 122. 



363 



ALL THE SACRED WRITERS UNIVERSALISTS. 

I have no doctrine, but the doctrine taught by God the Saviour. 
I reject every doctrine, which the mouth of the Lord hath not 
spoken. The apostolic churches were formed by professors of the 
doctrine of universal redemption. Jesus Christ, and his apostles, 
preached and defended this doctrine. All the writers of Revela- 
tion were strong- in the faithful belief of the doctrine of Universal 
Salvation; so saiththe Apostle Peter, when speaking of the world's 
Redeemer. ' The heavens must receive him, until the restitution 
of all things, which God hath spoken of by the mouth of all his 
holy prophets, ever since the world began.' How much is con- 
tained in this single testimony of the Apostle. Yes, indeed, God 
blessed Abraham, and said, in thee shall all nations of the earth be 
bless-ad. 

Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, believed God, and were therefore 
Universalists. And the Lord said, I have pardoned according to 
thy word. But as truly as I live, all the earth shall be filled with 
the glory of the Lord. Numbers xiv. 20, 21. 'Moses believed 
God, and was therefore a Universalist. 

All the ends of the world shall remember, and turn unto the 
Lord, and all the kindred of the nations shall worship before thee, 
for the kingdom is the Lord's. All they that go down to the dust 
shall bow before him. Psalm xxii. 27, 28, 29. 'Let the people 
praise thee, O God, let all the people praise thee.' 

'All nations shall call him blessed, and let the whole be earth fill- 
ed with his glory, amen, and amen.' Psalm lxxii. 8, 17, 19. 

'All nations whom thou hast made, shall come and worship be- 
fore thee, O Lord, and shall glorify thy name.' Psalm lxxxvi. 9. 

'My mouth shall speak the praise of the Lord, and let all flesh 
bless his holy name forever and ever.' Psalm cxlv. 21. 

Thus it appears that the royal Prophet was a strong Univer- 
salist. 

'They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain ; for 
the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters 
cover the sea.' Isaiah xi. 9. ' And in this mountain shall the Lord 
of hosts make unto all people, a feast of fat things. And he will 
destroy, in this mountain, the face of the covering cast over all 
people; the veil that is spread over all nations ; he will swallow 
up death in victory. And the Lord God will wipe away tears 
from off all faces ; and the rebuke of his people will he take from 
off all the earth, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it,' 
xxx. 6, 8. 

All this, no doubt, Isaiah fully believed. Isaiah, therefore, was 
a Universalist. 

' Behold the days come, saith the Lord, that I will perform that 
good thing which I have promised to the ho^se of Israel, and to 
the house of Judah.' See also Jer. xxxi. 3L, 34. 



264 



Jeremiah, in full assurance that God would perform what he 
promised, was unquestionably a Universalist. 

* When thy sister Sodom and her daughters shall return to their 
former estate, and Samaria and her daughters shall return to their 
former estate, Then thou and thy daughters shall return to thy 
former estate.' Ezekiel xvi. 55.^ 

Sodom and her daughters were those who suffered the vengeance 
of eternal fire. But the Prophet Ezekiel, being a Universalis^ was 
persuaded they would not be eternally suffering the vengeance of 
eternal fire. 

1 Pharaoh shall see them, and be comforted over all his multi- 
tude ; even Pharaoh and all his army slain by the sword, saith the 
Lord.' Ezekiel xxxii. 31. 

' Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be 
clean from all your filthiness, and from all your idols will I cleanse 
you. Then the heathen that are left round about you, shall know 
that I the Lord build the ruined places.' Ezekiel xxxvi. 25, 36. 

Thus we see Ezekiel, in declaring the salvation of Jew and 
Heathen, was a Universalist. 

' Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people, and upon thy 
holy city, to finish the transgression, and to make an end of sin, and 
to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting right- 
eousness.' Daniel ix. 24. Surely Daniel was a very strong E7ra- 
versalist. 

' Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be as the sand of 
the sea shore that cannot be measured or numbered ; and it shall 
come to pass, that in the place where it was said unto them, ye are 
not my people, there it shall be said unto them, ye are the sons of 
the living God.' Hosea i. 10. 1 And I will sow her unto me in the 
earth, and I will have mercy on her that had not obtained mercy, 
and I will say to them which were not my people, thou art my peo- 
ple, and they shall say, thou art my God.' Hosea ii. 23. Was not 
Hosea a Universalist ? 

1 And it shall come to pass afterwards, that I will pour out my 
spirit upon all flesh,' &c. Joel ii. 28. 'For I will cleanse their 
blood, that I have not cleansed.' Joel iii. 21. 

' In that day I will raise up the tabernacle of David, that is fallen, 
and close up the breaches thereof, that they may possess the rem- 
nant of all Edom, and of the heathen, which are called by my name, 
eaith the Lord, that doeth this.' Amos ix. 11, 12. 

1 And Saviours shall come upon Mount Zion, to judge the mount 
of Esau, and the kingdom shall be the Lord's.' Obadiah 21. 

' And he shall judge among many people, and rebuke strong na- 
tions afar off, and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and 
their spears into pruning-hooks. Nation shall not lift up a sword 
against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. But they 
shall sit every man under his vine, and under his fig tree, and none 
shall make them afrfid; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.' 
Micah, iv. 3, 4. ( He will turn again, he will have compassion up- 



265 



on us, he will subdue all our iniquities, and thou wilt cast all our 
sins into the depths of the sea. Thou wilt perform the truth to Ja- 
cob, and the mercy to Abraham, which thou hast sworn unto our 
fathers, from the days of old.' Micah vii. 19, 20. Thus it is plain, 
the prophets were all Universalists. 

Bat the angels of God are also Universalists. Let us listen to 
those messengers of heaven, while addressing the wondering shep- 
herds of Judea. ' And the angel said unto them, Fear not, behold 
I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people ; 
and suddenly there was with the angels a multitude of the heaven- 
ly host, praising God, and saying, Glory be to God in the highest, 
and on earth, peace and good will towards men.' Luke ii. 30, 14. 

The devout Simeon was a Universalist. 1 For mine eyes have 
seen tby salvation which thou hast prepared before the face of all 
people, a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people 
Israel.' Luke ii. 30, 31, 32. 

But that we may ascertain what all the evangelists and all the 
apostles were, in one view, let us hear the sentiments of our Saviour 
himself, upon this subject. 'For I have given unto them the 
words which thou gavest me, and they have received them.' John 
xvii. 8. ' For I have not spoken of myself, but the Father which 
sent me ; he gave me a commandment, what I should say, and what 
I should speak, and I know that this commandment is life everlast- 
ing. Whatsoever I speak, therefore, even as the Father said unto 
me, so I speak. John xii. 49, 50. See also ver. 32. 

Let us now attend to the ministry committed to the apostle . 
£ God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imput- 
ing unto them their trespasses.' 2 Corinthians v. 19. 'And he 
shall send Jesus Christ, who before was preached unto you, whom 
the heavens must receive, until the times of the restitution of all 
things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy pro- 
phets, ever since the world began.' Acts iii. 21. 

It is plain, from these testimonies, and many more which might 
be adduced, that the doctrine of Universalism is the doctrine of God 
our Saviour; and while the Universalists can produce so many il- 
lustrious vouchers, they never can be discomfited, or even em- 
barrassed.— Letters, fyc. ii. 422—425. 



23* 



X 



INDEX. 



Mams, Hon. John, sen. solicits Murray to preach, on the voyage from 

England to America, 205 
Mton, Murray's birth-place, 10 

Bath, Murray's arrival at, 60 ; hospitably entertained by the hay-mak- 
er, 61 ; preaches here, 62 
Belief, the proper object of, 84 

Benezet, Anthony, Murray's friend, 158 ; account of him, 158, note 
Boston, Murray visits for first time, 162; his reception, 162 — 164; 
preaches for first time here, 166 ; again arrives in Boston, 172 ; 
is attacked by a clergyman, (Bacon,) 172; his controversy with 
Croswell, 174 — 179; is stoned in Croswell's pulpit, 180; he oc- 
casionally officiates in Boston, 198 ; installed pastor of the socie- 
ty here, 212 

Boston, First Universalist Society in, outline of its history, 243 
Class Meetings of Methodists, how conducted, 21 

Convention Gen. of Vniversalists of New England States and others, 
197; origin of, 241; records of first meeting, 242; M.'s sermon 
preached at, 259 

Convention of Vniversalists in Philadelphia in 1790, address Gen. Wash- 
ington, 207 

Contentionof 1780 for framing constitution of Mass. appear to have been 

alarmed at Murray's doctrine, 190, note 
Cork, Murray's visit to, 54 — 56 
Cranberry Inlet described, 122, note 

Croswell, Rev. A., account of him, 169, note; slanders Murray in pub- 
lic papers, 174; is replied to, 175; endeavors to bar M. out of 
the pulpit, 175; attacks M. there in a very bitter manner, 175; 
if replied to by M. 176 ; interrupts M. 178 ; his uneasiness dur- 
ing M.'s defence, 1.79 

Dedication of infants introduced by Murray, 215, note 

Duchee, Rev. Mr., Murray's friend, 157; anecdote of, 157, note 

Dunham, Rev. Mr., a friend to Murray, 132, 134 

England, Murray's father removes from, 15 ; M. returns to, 58 ; his ar- 
rival in 1778 from America, 201 

Factory in which Murray first preached in Boston, where situated, 166, 
note 

Gehenna, true sense of, 94, note 

Gloucester, Mass, visited by M. first time, 174 ; again, 181 ; considers 
it his home, 182 ; his measures to relieve the inhabitants. 186 ; 



268 



INDEX. 



is summoned before Committee of Safety, who treat him very 
ungenerously, 186 — 189; Universalist meeting-house here dedi- 
cated, 189 ; church formed, 189 ; their views of ordination, 191 : 
suits are commenced against them, and their property is attached 
to support orthodox clergyman, 192 ; the church bring an action 
to recover back the monies, 192; the action finally brought in 
Murray's name, 193 ; Messrs. King, Sullivan, and Tudor con- 
duct his cause, 194 ; the Universalists publish an appeal to the 
public in regard to this case, 194 ; sentiments of the appeaL, 194, 
195 ; the important case finally settled in favor of the Universal- 
ists, 195 ; Sullivan's eloquence on the occasion, ib. ; the con- 
duct and opinions of Judge Dana, ib. ; the congregation petition 
legislature in favor of Murray, 200; give him certificate of ordi- 
nation, 202 ; renew his ordination after his return from England, 
i 205 ; the society's instrument of compact, 239 
Greene, Gen. corresponds with Murray, 226 

Hitchins, Rev. Mr. minister to Murray, 90 ; his argument against Ar- 

minians led M. to Universalism, 92 
Hopkins, Rev. Mr.'s journey and dialogue with Murray, 142 — 144} 

writes a book against Universalism, 143, note 
Ireland, Murray removes to, 15 ; he leaves for England, 58 
Jones, Rev. Thos. conversion and settlement at Gloucester, 212 
Judgment after death explained, 94, note 

Little, Mr converted to Methodism, 28; adopts young Murray as hi* 

son, 42 ; his displeasure at M.'s conduct, 58 
London, Murray arrives at, 63 ; arrives at in 1788 from America, 204 
Lord's Supper, Murray's views of, 214, note 

Mason, president of a society, 86 ; attempts to refute Relly's Union, 87 

Methodist Meetings, how conducted, 23 

Mitchell, Rev. Ed. agrees with Murray in opinion, 237 

Murray' s father , an Episcopalian, 10 ; removes to Ireland, 15; becomes 
a Methodist, 16; his sickness, 35; dying prayer for his son, 36} 
death, 37; his character and acquirements, 37, 38 • 

Murray's mother, a Presbyterian, 10 ; her benediction when he left her 
for England, 52 ; do. when he came to America, 109 ; visits hex 
in 1788, on his return from America, 204 

Murray, John, when born, 9; his ancestors, 12 — 14; danger of being 
lost in a boat, 15; appointed a class-leader, 20 ; his confirmation 
by the bishop, 25, 26; his Jove of Miss Dupee, 30 ; discovered by 
his father, 31 ; recovers possession of an estate, 41 ; preaches for 
the first time, 43 ; his difficulties at Mr. Little's, 45—50 ; leaves 
Mr. L 's house, 51 ; his touching farewell to the scenes of his 
youth, 54 ; his visit to Cork, 55, 56 ; return to England, 58 ; ar- 
rival at Bath, 60 ; entertained by the hay-maker, 61; do. by Rev. 
Mr. Tucker, 60, 61 ; arrives in London, 63 ; his early impru- 
dences here, 64 — 66; repents of them, 69; his feelings towards 
one of Relly's preachers, 72 ; introduction to Miss Eliza Neale, 
75; is enamored by her attractions, 76; proposes himself as her 
lover, 76; is married to her, 82; his feeling towards Mr. Relly, 
83; his attempt to reclaim a young woman who had become a 
Universalist, 82 — 85; his feeling towards Universalists, 85 ; pe- 
ruses Mason's pamphlet against Relly's Union, 87 ; loses Ma» 
son's favor by objecting to it. 88 ; sees Relly's Union first time, 
89; the effect of it on his mind, 90; hears Relly preach, 91 ; 



INDEX. 



269 



he and' his wife embrace Universalism, 92 ; expelled from 
the society at Whitefield's tabernacle, 93, 94 ; his subsequent 
troubles, 96; loses his wife, 98; instance of his benevolence, 
100; his embarrassments increase, 102 ; is arrested and thrown 
into prison, ib. ; his reflections there, 104 ; is released, 106 ; re- 
solves to remove to America, 109 ; sets sail, 111 ; arrives in the 
Delaware, 112; runs into Cranberry Inlet, 113; his first inter- 
view with Potter, 114 ; is astonished at his narrative, 116 ; his 
unwillingness to preach, 117 ; he at last yields to what he con- 
siders the will of God, 120; preaches in New York, 124 ; makes 
Potter's house his home, 125 ; visits Philadelphia, 130 ; is slan- 
dered, 132;? his conversation with Rev. Mr. Tennant, 135; 
hears of the miserable Mrs. Trinbath in New York, 138 ; endeav- 
ors to reclaim her, 139 ; the trouble it gave him, 140 ; visits 
Norwich, Con. 141 ; interview with Rev. Mr. Hopkins, 142 — 
144 ; his reception in Newport, R. I. 145 ; visits Providence, 
150; visits Philadelphia again, ib. ; Maryland, 151 ; singular in- 
terview with a physician, 152 — 155; his labors in 1773,156; 
mentions some of his friends, 157, 158 ; visits Newport again, 
158 ; E. Greenwich, 159 ; Pawtuxet and Providence, 160 ; con- 
ference with Rev. Mr. Snow and his church, ib. ; visits Boston 
for first time, 162; his reception, 162 — 164; preaches for first 
time here, 166 ; visits Newburyport, ib. ; Portsmouth, 168; re- 
turns to Boston, ib.; time employed to close of Jan. 1774, 170; 
receives an invitation to settle at Portsmouth, 171 ; passing 
through Rhode Island arrives again at Boston, 172; is attacked 
by a clergyman, (Bacon) 172 ; visits Gloucester for first time, 
174; his feelings on hearing of Relly's death, 176, note; is ston- 
ed in Croswell's pulpit, 180 ; continuation of his life by his wid- 
ow commenced, 181 ; visits Gloucester, Newburyport, and Ports- 
mouth again, ib. ; is the means of converting Rev. Noah Parker, 
J 82; considers Gloucester his home ib. ; calumny against him 
refuted, 183 ; chosen chaplain to R. I. brigade, ib. ; cause of that 
choice, ib. note; repairs to camp, 184 ; refuses Washington's ap- 
pointment, and continues as a volunteer, 185 ; carries a large 
sum of money to Gloucester for relief of suffering inhabitants, 
186 ; summoned before committee of safety, ib. ; their extraordi- 
nary proceedings, 186—189; permits a suit to be brought in his 
name, 193; obtains a verdict, 195; contemplates a yearly asso- 
ciation of the preachers of Universalism, 197 ; visits Oxford to 
form a convention, 197, 242; occasionally officiates at Boston, 
198 ; is prosecuted for solemnizing marriage, ib. ; concludes to 
make a voyage to England, and reasons therefor, ib. ; petitions 
legislature for relief, ib. ; a bill obtained in his favor, 200 ; ar- 
rives in England, 201; his reception in Falmouth, 202; in Lon- 
don, 204 ; embarks at Cowes for America, 204 ; his ordination re- 
newed at Gloucester, 205 ; his travels in 1790, 206 ; is appointed 
on committee to address Gen. Washington, 207 ; visits the grave 
of Potter, 208 — 210; his reflections on Potter's character, 211; 
is installed pastor of the society in Boston, 212 ; his views of 
baptism and the Lord's supper, 214, note ; institutes ceremony of 
dedication of infants, 215 — 217, note; is crippled by disease, 219; 
disease increases, 221 ; his death, 222; his powers of persuasion, 
823; his moral principles, 224 ; corresponds with Gen. Greene, 



270 



INDEX. 



226; with others, 227 — 230; his religious principles described, 
233 — 237 ; contrasted with sentiments of Winchester, 245 ; his 
feeling towards Winchester, 246 — 248 ; his first interview with 
him, 248 ; his views of sin and punishment, 250 ; of Mr. Win- 
chester's system of future punishment, 251 — 254 ; his own views 
of the future condition of those who die in unbelief, 254 — 258 ; 
what he thought of the day of judgment, 255 ; his sermon at the 
formation of the general convention of Universalists in 1785, at 
Oxford, 259. 

Neale, Miss Eliza, is introduced to Murray, 75 ; wins his affections, 76 ; 
consents to his addresses, 77; enrages her grandfather, and is 
deprived of her inheritance, 78 ; leaves his house, 80; is married 
to Murray, 82 ; is taken sick, 96 ; parting interview with her 
husband, and happy death, 97, 98 ; his affectionate remembrance 
of her, 104, 107, 111, 126. 

Male, Wm. his kindness to Murray, 105 

Oxford, Mass. first o-eneral convention of Universalists held at, in 1785, 

197, 241—243 ; Murray's sermon at, 259 
Parker, Noah, conversion to Universalism, 182 

Peck, Thomas Handasyde, receives Murray on his arrival in Boston, 

163 ; account of him, 163, note 
Perkins, Hon. Thomas H. letter from, 163, note 

Potter, Thomas, sees Murray for first time, 114 ; persuades him to preach, 
116 ; his joy on hearing him, 120; do. on hearing his resolution 
to abide at his house, 126 ; his grave visited by Murray, 208— 
210 ; his character, 211 

Relly, Rev. James, one of his preachers hated by Murray, 72; himself 
hated, 83 ; slanders in regard to him, 85, 86 ; his 1 Union ' seen 
by M. for first time, 89 ; is heard by M. with astonishment, 91 ; 
his friendship for M. 108 ; urges him to preach ib. ; his death, 
and M.'s feelings at, 176, note 

Sacred Writers all Universalists, 263 — 265 

Salvation, how the effect of faith, 84, 85 

Sargeant, JVinthrop, of Gloucester, patronizes Murray, 172, 174, 181, 
186, 188; was member of convention of 1770 for framing consti- 
tution of commonwealth, 188, note 

Say, Thomas, Murray's friend, 157 ; account of, 158, note 

Sermon, preached by Murray in 1785, at first meeting of general con- 
vention, 259 

Stiles, Rev. Ezra, 147, note 

Still, Rev. Mr. slanders Murray, 156, 157 

Sunday, how spent in Murray's father's family, 17, 18, 22 

Tennant, Rev. Mr. abuses Murray, 135 

Third Article of Bill of Rights, first draft appears to have reference to 
Murray, 190, note 

Thomas, Rev. A. C. his views of the circumstances connected with M.'a 
landing, 121 

Trinbath, Mr. is visited by Murray, 57 ; is deserted by his wife, 64 ; M. 

hears of her in New York, 138 ; endeavors to reclaim, her, 139 ; 

the trouble it gave him, 140 
Tucker, Rev. Mr. entertains M., 61,62 

Tyler, Rev. John, Murray's friend, 157; account of him, 157, note ; hia 

sentiments in unison with M.'s, 237 
Universalism sustains in death, 164, note 



INDEX, 



271 



Universalists hated by Murray before his conversion, 85 

Varnum, Gen. a friend to Murray, 150 

Walton, Rev. Joseph, a clergyman of Portsmouth, 171, note 

Washington, Pres. is addressed by committee of Universalist conven- 
tion in Philadelphia, 207 ; his reply, 207, 208 

Wesley, Rev. John, pays attention to young Murray, 20 ; the idol of th« 
Methodists, 33 ; his opinion of Calvinism, 64 

Whitejield, seen by Murray for first time, 56 ; M. desires to attach him- 
self to him in London, 64 ; the effect of his preaching on M. 67 ; 
his catholic spirit, 74 

Winchester, Rev. Elhanan, preached in 1785 at general convention at 
Oxford, Mass. 197, 258 ; a Universalist on the principles of 
Chauncy, 197, 236 ; contemporary with Murray, 245 ; his first 
interview with M. 248 ; how he was personally regarded by M. 
249 ; his sentiments on future punishment disapproved by M. 
251 — 254 ; differs from M. in his views of day of judgment, 255 



273 



ADVERTISMENT. 

Universalist Books of every description that are to be obtained 
in the United States, are kept constantly on hand for sale, at the 
Trumpet Office, No. 40, Cornhill, Boston. Orders from a distance 
(directed to 'Thomas Whittemore, Trumpet Office, Boston, Mass.') 
will be cheerfully and promptly attended to. The port of Boston 
furnishes ready conveyance to all parts of the world ; and books 
and pamphlets, when ordered to any considerable amount, are 
packed in strong boxes, and forwarded in the most perfect order. 
Among the works are the following : 

Ancient History of Universalism ; from the time of the Apostles 
to its condemnation in the Fifth General Council, A. D. 553 ; with 
an Appendix, tracing the doctrine down to the era of the Reforma- 
tion. By Hosea Ballou, 2d. This is highly spoken of by all the 
learned, as a work of great research and impartiality. Price $], 
retail. 

The Modern History of Universalism, from the era of the Refor- 
mation to the present time. By Thomas Whittemore. These 
two works comprise a connected history of Universalism from the 
days of the apostles to the present time. Price $1, retail. 

There are many people who suppose, that the doctrine of Uni- 
versalism has not been known, until within a few years — that it is 
a sentiment recently avowed by a few heedless innovators, distin- 
guished by little else than their rashness and ignorance. Those 
who will take the pains to read the Modern History of Universal- 
ism, will find that this doctrine has been defended by great, and 
virtuous, and learned men for upwards of three huudred years; in 
addition to which, if the Ancient History of Universalism be pe- 
rused, it will be seen that it may be traced back to the earliest ages 
of the Christian Church. It is not a new sentiment, but one which 
will be found to have had able advocates, with little intermission, 
ever since the days of Christ. 

The Modern History of Universalism is purely a history, and not 
a work of theological argument and controversy. The lives and 
standing of those who have defended this doctrine, have been 
given in every case where it was practicable ; large extracts have 
been made from their writings ; anonymous works have been 
noticed, and particular attention has been paid to those who have 
been public preachers of the sentiment. But while this work is 
purely historical, it cannot be denied that it must have a strong 
influence in bringing men to believe 'that the Father sent the Son 
to be the Saviour of the world.' In the extracts which are made 
from Universalist writers, every variety of argument by which they 
have defended their opinions is presented. Here are seen the 
24 



274 



arguments of the wit, of the philosopher, and of the divine — the 
argument as it is drawn from reason, from the nature of man, from 
the attributes of God, and from the Scriptures ; so that a history 
of Universalism is necessarily a defence of it. It is highly interest- 
ing to an inquiring mind, to see in how many different forms this 
doctrine has presented itself to the human understanding, and with 
what a variety of reasoning it lias been sustained. 

Illustrations of Divine Government, by T. South wood Smith, 
M. D. of London. First American from the third English edition, 
with an Appendix. This work is particularly valuable as contain- 
ing a discussion of that difficult question, the freedom of the 
human will, and free agency, as connected with the overruling 
government of God. This is the only edition in which the Appen- 
dix is found. Price 12mo. pp. 358. 75 cents, retail. 

Notes and Illustrations of the Parables of the New Testament, ar- 
ranged according to the order of time in which they were spoken. 
By Thomas Whitemore. Price, 62£ cents. This work contains 
about 290 duodecimo pages. A distinct exposition is given of each 
parable, and, whenever necessary, of the context in which it is 
found, illustrated by such helps as the best commentators and most 
approved eastern travellers have thrown in our way. As many of 
the Parables have been used to support the doctrine of endless mis- 
ery, particular care has been taken to show wherein Orthodox ex- 
positors have agreed with Uni versa lists in their interpretations of 
such parts of the Scriptures. Thus it will be seen, that Parkhurst, 
Campbell, Whitby, Lightfoot, Pearce, Thophylact, Bate, Clarke, 
Home, Jahn, Hammond, Gill, and others, high in the repute of the 
orthodox, have given the same exposition of the Parables that Uni- 
versalists now do. 

Winchester 's Dialogues on Universal Restoration, exhibited in 
four Dialogues between a minister and his friend ; comprehending 
the substance of several real conversations which the author had 
with various persons, both in America and Europe, on that inter- 
esting subject: chiefly designed fully to state, and fairly to answer 
the most common objections that are brought against it, from the 
Scriptures. To which is prefixed a brief account of the author's 
conversion to Universalism. This edition possesses several advan- 
tages over any former edition that has been published. First, it is 
printed very neatly, on a fine paper, in a small size, and is bound 
in a superior manner. — Second, it contains an excellent likeness of 
the revered author, from an English print, now in possession of his 
aged sister, at Watertown, Mass. And, third, an index of the pas- 
sages illustrated is postfixed to the work, prepared with great care 
by a clergyman of this vicinity. These circumstances justify us in 
saying, that no edition of these Dialogues has ever appeared so wor- 
thy of public patronage. 

The book contains 300 pages. Price, retail, 75 cents. 



275 



Sermons on Important Doctrinal Subjects. To which are added 
critical and explanatory notes, and a brief Memoir of the Author, 
written by himself. By Hosea Ballon, of Boston. These discourses 
form a little body of divinity on the subject of Universalism. Inquire 
for Ballou's Sermons on Important Doctrinal Subjects, price 37^ 
cents. All the other works of this Author are kept constantly on 
hand. 

Universal Damnation and Salvation, a work on Universalism, 
comprised in a series of sermons', by Rev. John Tyler, an Episco- 
pal clergyman in Norwich, Con. and one of the early friends of 
John Murray. Price 25 cents. 

Essays on the Coming of Christ, by Rev. Warren Skinner. In 
this work all the passages in which the coming of Christ is spoken 
of are fully explained. It is highly spoken of by those who have 
perused it. Price, 31 cents. 

Petitpicrre on Divine Goodness, an excellent work on Universalism, 
originally published in French. Price, 37£ cents. 

Balfour's Works. All the works of this author are kept con- 
stantly on hand, at the lowest prices. 

T. Whittemore has now in press, and will shortly publish, 
' The Torments of Hell ; the foundation and pillars thereof dis- 
covered, searched, shaken, and removed. With infallible proofs 
that there is not to be a punishment after this life, for any to en- 
dure, that shall never end.' This work was originally published 
one hundred and seventy-five years ago, in England, by Samuel 
Richardson, a celebrated writer of that time. It contains many 
very curious and original arguments against the common doctrine 
of hell torments, and is well worthy the attention of Universalista. 
Price, 25 cents. 

T. Whittemore has also in preparation, and will shortly publish, 
' Universalist Biography,' comprising biographical sketches of 
all deceased eminent Universalist clergymen and authors, from the 
second century to the present time, so far as said object is attaina- 
ble. It will come out in a series of volumes until finished. As the 
Universalist denomination now have their history from the age of 
the apostles to the present time, it is desirable also that their biog- 
raphy should be preserved ; and should this object be satisfactori- 
ly obtained, they may be said to have, what few denominations can 
boast, their history and biography in a popular form before the 
world. The defenders of Universalism from the age of the apos- 
tles, have been men of eminent piety and learning ; and the de- 
nomination may well feel a virtuous pride in the contemplation of 
their standing and characters. Such a work as is here promised, 



276 



is made the more necessary by the disposition which the compilers 
of biographical dictionaries have manifested to pass by, Or to notice 
very slightly, those individuals who have defended Universalism ; 
and where it has been rendered inexpedient by the eminent stand- 
ing of the person to pass by him without notice, nothing has been 
said of his faith in Universalism. Thus we have seen accounts of 
Origen, in which nothing was said of his having been a Universal- 
is!; and to what biographical dictionary shall we turn for an ac- 
count of Murray, Dr. Young, Wm. Pitt Smith, Winchester, Vid- 
ler, Purves, Douglass, Coppin, and very many others ? Such con- 
siderations show the necessity of Universalists themselves preserv- 
ing the biography of their eminent men. 



A general assortment of Universalis! Books, Sermons, Tracts, 
&c. are kept constantly for sale at the Trumpet Office, No. 40, Corn- 
hill, (up stairs,) for the use of Universalist libraries. The proprie- 
tor has made every exertion to obtain a few copies of rare and 
scarce Universalist works, which have been long nearly out of 
print, which he reserves for libraries. 

QJ 5 ' A liberal discount made where a quantity is purchased. 



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